#just Dick domming his cut little alpha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seventhcallisto · 1 year ago

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Chapter VIII — "sensitive."

Deep down.

A/n: MDNI!!! MATURE CONTENT! smut under the cut. It's literally pure filth for jongho. There is absolutely no plot in this except for jongho being whipped. It's a lot. Bear with me!!

Toc + cw: semi-hard dom jongho(through the first half)/switch jongho. sub/switchy reader. guided masterbation (f. Receiving) fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (*gasps of false shock*) biting, boob worship, marking, slapping(ONCE), backshots(drink!), tummy bulge...., jonghos' mouth is kinda filthy, jjong has a noona kink low-key. There's a slight breeding kink in there, knotting!! Tugging!!, lots of cum, aftercare, big dick jongho, snuggly jongho, fluff!! Love you's after smex.

pet names/nns: doll, pretty, jagi(ya), noona, c0ck wh0re(once), little/cub (yours). jjongie, jjong, alpha, teddy bear (jongho's). min, (mingi's).

Wc: 8.6k

Jongho has an attitude that's hard to see, a personality that can be hard to grasp. That's what he's heard before, what he's read before- and he finds it accurate. Every time he says that, he remembers all the times you've caught him, as if he shared his feelings on his sleeves. The way your eyes scan him whenever you notice the tiniest detail is off, it's happened a lot.

You'd be kind enough to gift the young alpha a blanket if he seems to be curling in on himself a little more than usual. How you'd slip your hot pack into his palms if you catch him rubbing them together, when you'd make sure he was able to get a word in if his eyes seemed to light up at the topic of conversation, that's when he began yearning for you. Your simple affections had caught the alpha by storm. Taking care of him like you were his noona. It wasn't so simple when his friends began noticing it too.

Commenting on how often the two of you went viral for things that seemed more lovey-dovey than normal. How'd they ask occasionally if he was courting you yet, often in alpha traditions that had been abandoned decades ago. His friends could see jongho being old fashioned. Hell, even he himself could see that he preferred the tradition of courting. Maybe that's why he began doing it oh so subtly. Comforting you when you're nervous. Handing you anything he seems good enough for you. Sharing his clothing.

Buying you things, food, clothing, jewelry. He felt sick to his stomach with anxiety as you opened everything he gave you. Just wishing for your approval.

He had been courting you in his own way, unbeknownst to you and him. But in reality, he knew he was courting you, why else would he stop to look at a matching set of promise rings? He just didn't want to be rejected, so he kept it to himself. Kept his yearning to a minimum. And pretended like his heart didn't race when you called his name.

You had so casually swayed over, taking his hands in your own and spinning back and forth. You circled him as he sang. The caressing of your hands over his shoulders and waist as you leaned into him happily. Bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your group's song playing over the speaker. You all had just won an award. Yet the only thing jongho could keep his eyes on was you bouncing and swaying to the beat over his shoulder. Smiling brightly. Mumbling the lyrics into your mic flawlessly along with him.

Perhaps that's when jongho realized he was in love with you, or that he had known he would never love anyone else like he did you.

You trust jongho to guide you through the door of his shared room. Hands never leaving your hips, sliding down to nudge against the hem of your shorts just on the curve of your back. Strong and heavy and pushing you backwards, a waltz you can't see or predict because he's suffocating you with his tongue, shoving it around your own and swiping up every little noise you let out. Telling you to be quiet, so the other members can't see or hear you two entering their bedroom.

Jongho thought for a minute to take you on the counter in the bathroom, but why do that, when he could have his sheets covered in your scent? It'll give him something to remember. His hands pry the hoodie off, the shirt sticking to your skin, it's tossed somewhere in the room. Once your foot hits the edge of his bed you're falling atop it, splayed out so prettily in a daze for the younger alpha. Your hands reach for him, gripping the end of his shirt as you try to pull him above you.

He's staring and he knows he's staring. Your eyes squint, shyly. “Don't look at me like that” you mumble with your oh so swollen lips, he has a hard time stopping his lip from jolting up into a guilty smile, his hands coming around to grip the edge of the bed next to your thighs. “I'm allowed to stare, you're beautiful” he says honestly with a dreamy sigh, ignoring your protest, he goes on, holding eye contact as he’s leaning over your form with his strong arms that flex against the shirt he wears. He looks you over once for the go ahead, brown eyes caring and attentive. “Hurry jjongie” you huff.

His hands are rough, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go, fingers digging their way down around the plush of your outer thighs. You whimper when you almost come off the bed, legs falling between jonghos. Again he stares, his hands sliding up to round up your thighs in his thicker hands and part them, your glistening cunt on display from the angle he bends your thighs to the side at. As he does you shift back to scoot up the bed. It's no use cause he holds you there, you're getting shy, legs attempting to close.

“Don't, I want to see you.” His eyes peek up from where you're leaking, his teeth prying his lip to hold back. You shake your head. “Stop staring” you mumble, turning your head away from him and closing your eyes. His hand snakes up your jaw, tugging you back to look at him.

“Show me how you play with yourself” he demands, eyes piercing. Your heart thumps out, jaw falling slack in his grasp. He pries your hand from the sheets of his bed, guiding it up to his lips. He's using his own fingers to guide yours into his own mouth, eyes prying as he gathers the slick on his tongue over your own digits, you let him guide you, a satisfied groan slipping past his lips when your knuckles bump the ridge top of his mouth.

He takes them out not a second after he deems them lubed up enough. His eyes cascade down your body, dipping your fingers along with his, he places them over your cunt, leaving them there for you to go on.

“Show me” his eyebrow shoots up as he demands again, eyes slotting from your flush expression back to the fingers he left over your cunt. He wants a show. And you're gonna give him one. You push them to open your lips, sighing softly. You slip one of your fingers in, then a second one, and pump them slowly. Gathering your palm to rub circles against your neglected clit.

He laughs lightly, it's a teasing sound, one that has you clenching your thighs close. He pulls them open again easily. “Come on doll, you can do better than that” he hums, glancing up at you. His hands come over to press against the curves of your thighs. Lifting you up so he can see you better, it's lewd and an exposing position that has you biting your tongue to hide any embarrassing noises.

He scoffs, using one of his hands to grip your jaw, it's not tight, just enough to get you to part your mouth open. There's a pinch in his eyes, a glint that has you staring back wide eyed. “Don't hide. Let me hear you.” His round eyes are piercing, he thumbs your palm out of the way to circle his thumb against your clit, slow agonizing circles that have you arching up into your own fingers.

“Jjongie-” You gasp when his thumb leaves, eyeing him up as he continues to look down at your cunt. His fingers prod your opening, that's when your jaw falls slack. He's pushing two of his digits in with your own, rubbing against the underside of your knuckles with his wider and heavier fingers.

“I didn't tell you to stop” he mumbles, pushing your thigh up again with his free hand that was just on your jaw. He's still digging his way inside, wiggling you open with little angled thrusts of his fingertips. “Keep going doll, use your fingers” you slowly pump them in again with his command, feeling the underside of his own fingers against your own steadily being slicked up. You feel a bit full with four fingers inside you, reaching for that spot that you can hardly reach.

Jongho seems to understand what you're doing, your own little moans picking up the farther you try to reach. “Mm, can't reach jagi? I'll help you” he shushes you softly. When he starts moving them you whimper, they're pressing down to move past your own, although you've had four cocks that are a thousand times bigger than your fingers, you miss how full you've been. Your stomach turns in knots, trying to reach an orgasm that's not gonna come without jonghos help.

You're slipping your fingers slightly out of your walls before you can even realize why. Jongho stops moving, gripping your wrist with his hand that's halfway buried inside you, stilling your fingers from coming out any more. “Where do you think you're going?” He scoffs, eyeing you as if you had the nerve to even pull yourself out. “Jongho-” You hiccup when he bottoms his fingers inside you, pistoning them to the hilt, a steady rhythm he begins setting himself as he grinds them over your other fingers. His free thumb digging into your clit.

“You don't listen,” he sighs, falsely upset. “Need me to do it all by myself” he whines into his words quietly. Thick thighs coming up to part your thigh over his lap. You twitch as he catches speed, free fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling them in and out with his own, getting you to open up. Your walls clench and unclench in a rhythm. When jonghos thumb drives your clit up and down in faster circular movements your face scrunches up.

He's got his fingers so deep in you, digging your own so deep in with his. Dragging them in and out and trying to pry for your g-spot. He reaches it easily with his own, feeling you jolt when he prods the spot.

“there it is, that wasn't so hard” he coos. You're gasping as he bullies the spot, fingertips prodding it for reactions. Your thighs are clenching hard, twitching at the stimulus.

“jongho m-” your orgasm washes over quickly, legs attempting to close because it's too much. He keeps his bullying pace, digging his fingers in to stretch your orgasm until the last drop.

You're panting as he finishes and pulls his fingers out with yours, gasps falling off the tip of your tongue. That was almost world shattering, he was rough- not like you didn't enjoy it, but the slapping of his palm against your sensitive cunt left you feeling tingly.

“What do you say, pretty?” he places your fingertips on his tongue, sucking your juices off. He hums when he takes them out, kissing up your stomach to where your shirt has ridden up. You wiggle, panting gently into the air. He wants you to thank him for your orgasm. It's authoritative- yet you like it.

“Thank you”

He hums against your skin. “You're so welcome little cub” he says with such fondness the tone behind it doesn't catch your ears. He's lifting his fingers under your shirt, kissing the skin as it becomes more revealed the more he pulls it up. It's agonizingly slow. Taking his time with you. Memorizing your skin against his lips. The bottom stops just short of the roundness of your breasts.

He kisses the plumpness of them from where they pool out, teeth nibbling on them the next second. You audibly jolt, gasping lightly. Your hands move to thread through his hair. Tugging on the soft strands. He seems to grow impatient, cause in the next second he's hiking your legs up his waist and pushing you further up the bed. Helping you remove wooyoung's shirt.

Jonghos plump lips still remain glued to your chest, kissing around your prickling skin, against the hardening expansions of your nipples. He's using both of his hands to grip them, the fat pooling between his thick fingers.

You can make out the pattern of his lips following the shape of a heart, he takes the nub of your hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking and tugging. You bite your lip, crying behind a whine. You squeeze him tighter, grinding up into his sweats over his stomach. He hums back, gravelly and heavy, glancing up to look you in the eyes. He pays equal attention to both of them. Rolling them in his hands. Warm and hot at the same time.

“Jongho” you pout “need you” he pops off your nipple with a smile, kissing the irritated skin. “Where?” He asks, kissing up to your neck, in search of the spot that has you clenching. He'll leave a mark, only cause he knows you don't have any activities soon. And because he can't help it. He wants to mark you as his- as theirs. To tell anyone else to fuck off. Just to fulfill that urge to be possessive of you.

You pout despite knowing he can't see it. “Inside” you mumble quietly. Jongho seems to catch it, head placed right on the swell of where your neck meets your shoulder. Breathing against your skin as his fingers rake up the length of your body. Mapping out every inch of you. He slides them down to your hips, sitting up quickly. You're being flipped over before you can gasp, jongho using his strength to move you.

“inside right?” He leans over you, breathing against your head propped up on his pillow. His erection skims the plump of your ass, making you lean into him. It's all jongho in his bed. Laundry, florals, all consuming. You dig your face into it some more. “Yes” you wiggle your hips to caress against his bulge. Teasingly so. He curses under his breath. Jongho works behind you, stripping off his shirt and sweats in an array of fabric noises. If you could peek, you would. But he's already lifting your hips up to slot a pillow under your pelvis, making you more leveled with him.

You know exactly what he's doing, teasing you by staying out of view. You whimper when his hands spread your cheeks open. It's like his eyes leave a trail of heat on you.

“Been wanting to do this since you put on that show earlier” he scoffs, edging into a smile. The slick of his cock tip digging into the underside of your cunt makes you clench, he's gathering your slick to rub it along his length. He must be referring to when you lightly grazed your legs on the inner side of his thighs.

“You're so sensitive” you mumble through the haze, jongho stops, and maybe then you realize you're actually talking back. “Say that again doll,” jongho encourages, hands grasping your thighs right under the swell of your ass. There's a tone there. He squeezes tightly. “i- I didn't mean it-” you wiggle, wishing for that added pressure of his cock again. He smacks your cheek once, the flesh stinging. You yelp into the pillow placed under your head.

“Sure you didn't? Huh?” He's mean, mumbling into his words as he pulls his dick between your lips again, poking and prodding your hole with tiny gasp and a drawn out groan. “sensitive,” he repeats what you say.

“We'll see who's sensitive.” there's no build up to the way jongho flattens his hips against your ass or the way his cock slides in easily, you're soaked, his pillow too. You gasp at the complete size of him, clawing up on the pillow as if it's going to save you from sinking further as jongho pushes his full length in. His groan is cut off, head falling into your shoulder as he props himself above your back.

He digs his free hand that's not holding him up to under you, sliding it down to press against your stomach. You choke as he presses down on his bulge, there's an indention from his cock nestled against your walls.

“Feel that?” He breathily says, pulling out til the tip of him sticks in, you whine at the loss, loosing his wide length as he goes. It's not long he's gone, hand still over the spot he once was at before he's plowing back into you. Hips snapping. “That's how deep I am” he groans when his tip prods his palm.

You flutter, chest heaving as you throw your hips back to meet the hard and bruising pase jongho is setting. He knows his own strength, he has his own self control. Somehow he isn't using all of it to rearrange your guts. “So tight, already had four cocks- and you're still this tight?” He grumbles. Lips falling over your ear, your head digs down, gasps and moans that get cut off cause of every slap of jonghos hips.

It's loud, it's sticky, and your slick is already coating jonghos dick and thighs.

“You're so messy” he sits up to gaze down at your cunt, using your back as leverage to lean his wide palm. Your hips meet every thrust of his, guiding him in easily.

You're clenching around him, whimpering into the pillow. “I bet you get off on this noona, having all your members plow their way into you. You're our cock whore now, yeah?” his eyes never part from your wet core. He's scoffing when you squeeze, clearly enjoying his words. You can't even respond, already too lost in jongho to think.

“You do” he hums, groaning shamelessly into the back of his palm as it comes around to cover his mouth. He's so loud already, he really can't control it. Attempting to bite back every groan that slips, “bet they enjoy it just as much as you do.” he leans over, squishing you completely with his body weight, the angle is harder to move in, so instead you just let jongho use you.

“gonna take you every rut and use you, just like this” jonghos fantasies are seeping into every word. Who knows where these new feelings came from, or the way he's bullying you as his cock gives you exactly what you want.

“shit- keep you so full.” There's a louder breathier moan that comes from his mouth, when he completely digs his dick back in, bottoming out every thrust. His hands come around to the sides of you, knees planted firmly on each outer side of your thigh. Heavy and rutting up every time he thrusts forward.

You can feel his skin scrape against your own, warm and new, skin that you haven't ever felt before from jongho. “Want to-” you moan quietly, “see you” you whine when he pulls out, length taken away and leaving you alone without him to fill you.

You're flipped back over onto your side as jongho comes behind you, spreading your thigh over his hip. He kisses your shoulder as he lines himself up again, throbbing against his fingers as he guides it in. You sigh as you're filled again. Head falling against his chest, just under his chin. He grabs the leg on your hip and widens you further, scrunching your leg up under his strong arm.

“Can't- jongho- alpha-” You whimper at the stretch in your muscles. “I need to be able to reach you jagi” he sighs, groaning through his words. His palm falls over your stomach again where the dent of him lies inside. His thrusts are slower this time, no doubt trying to hold off his orgasm. You're already so close to your own, even before he pulled himself out.

With every hard twitch of his thighs, he's slipping in and out of you. A heavy thump as he hits your cervix at the perfect angle. You gasp every time, tingling building up in your gut. You reach your arm behind you to hold him, threading it into the back of his head where his soft hair is. “Want you to cum, you got too.” he whimpers, the first time he has, just as your eyes take over his. Warm and lustful and round, more softer than they were minutes ago. The sight is peeling an orgasm out of you that has you shaking in jonghos grasps.

Jaw falling open. Jongho takes it as his opportunity to cut you off with a sloppy kiss, his heavy rhythm picking up. Both of his hands come around to grip the bulge of your stomach, dropping your thigh back over his hip. “Just like that- ah. fuck.” He curses quietly, thrusts slowing and becoming sloppy, he bottoms completely inside you. Knot swelling and keeping you close, jongho pulses inside you, hard. His head falling against the pillow next to you when his eyebrows scrunch and his own jaw falls slack. A shuddered gasp pulling from his throat.

A lot of his cum pools deep in you, even so much as spilling out around jonghos knot, you shudder at the warmth, hot and thick and consuming your insides with just jongho.

You grasp for his hand as you come down with him, he reaches back out, smoothing his palm over your tummy and gathering your fingers between his own. Adoring eyes scanning your features, your face shows no discomfort, just sleepiness. It's quite often you get tired after sex, and just like jongho everyone has noticed this. “Are you tired?” Jongho asks with a quiet sigh, planting a kiss on your temple. He's kept himself up, front pressed to your back so you can remain close.

You shake your head. “‘m comfortable, I like being full” you almost purr. Lost in your own afterglow. The younger alpha digs his nose into your shoulder; breathing in your scent as he looks across your body. Hickeys and bite marks align your neck, reaching your most sacred primal spot. They trail all the way down your breasts like patches of butterflies, stopping just below the bottom most round spot of your breasts. Your stomach is completely untouched, left to look round and untainted.

Jongho internally laughs, as if the spot were to be filled. Left untainted so it could be full of pups and cum, their pups. And their cum.

His hips jolt forward. You jump too. Jongho shushes you, softly apologizing. “Sorry, can't help it” he whimpers softly, head digging into your shoulder to calm himself. You press back against him, already asking for more softly. “jongho” you preen when the alpha kisses your neck, head pulling to the side. When you clench his hand over your stomach, jongho feels you flutter around him. A shudder sigh being pulled out of his lungs. “m- please, please move jjongie. Need more” you whimper, already swinging your hips back into him.

He shudders, head pulling out of your neck to look at you, gripping your hips. “You have all of me, pretty, i'm already so deep,” he builds a slow thrust, knot still pulling against you, your breath hiccups at the stretch when he pulls too far out, threatening to take his knot with him. He never does though, pulling it all the way back in, but only slightly out as he slowly works his cock in and out of you. Gradually bringing you two to that edge, even if your thighs are shaking from overstimulation.

You fall halfway over onto your stomach to hide your face into the pillows, jaw falling slack in a silent whine. You're so close, just barely any friction on jonghos part and you're already gonna cum. jongho follows you body with his own, leaning onto his knee to prop himself back over you, gasping short as you spasm around his cock. “jjongie- just like that- gonna cum” you warn him, he hums, strangled as he bottoms completely in you in another heavy thrust. The squelch of your already mixture of cum creating sticky sounds against your bodies. Jonghos eyes cloud over as he stares. It's a sight he prefers over everything else, your slick and his cum is gathering along his length and over your pussy, every time he pulls out more comes with him.

He audibly whimpers when you squeeze him again, overstimulating himself, his knot is not helping. It's painful but it's so good. The perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. “I'm gonna cum- You're gonna take all of it right?- ah. mm.” he bites on his lips to stiff any moans. “Cumming- ah- jongho” you gasp with a call of his name, fingers straining against his sheets. In the midst of going through it, you're flipped back into your side as jongho drapes himself completely over you, pushing your hips as he bends down to bite on your collarbone. Teeth digging deep, his hand once holding him up pulls your face into his neck, signaling you to do the same.

You tremble as you flutter around his cock, overstimulated in the best way. Your bite is wide, positioned a bit too close to a spot he can't hide well. Oh well. Hoodies and crewnecks it is. Jongho cums quickly after a few more shallow thrusts with your name falling off his tongue. Cum painting your walls in more of his scent, it gathers and works to push around his knot, pooling under your pelvis and ruining the sheet. He whimpers into your skin, pulling his teeth back enough to kiss the quickly bruising and deep spot, shallow thrusts as he guides you both through the aftermath.

You tap out quickly after, pushing against his hips as best you can. “too much-” you whimper, panting, jongho sighs as he falls on top of you. Clearly hoping you'd say that. His hands landing on either side to support himself up so he isn't squishing you, breathing harshly against your back. He swallows heavily.

“who's sensitive now”

You laugh lightly, tilting your head up so you can look at him, his boba eyes are endearing, forehead shiny with sweat. “shut up” your hand snakes around his neck, pulling him back in for a sweet kiss. A loving peck that lasts a second of comfort before you're falling back into the pillow, completely lost of strength. Jongho levels down with you, attempting to hold himself up. He's trying. It's not working well, his limbs are slowly becoming jelly.

“Move over” he asks with a kiss on your neck, eyes never leaving your lax face, you peek your eyes open and sigh, struggling to turn in his grasp, you both struggle for a solid second, attempting to rearrange your limbs without hurting the knot tied between you two. You both just end up sideways, facing each other in a mix of limbs. You're able to actually see jongho and all his beauty, he hides all of that under clothing, yet maybe you want him too. He's built like a god. You might actually get too distracted by him (more than you already do) if he were to wear anything more revealing than what he already wears.

“Remind me to take a picture next time” you joke, finger running along his bicep, memorizing the relaxed muscles under his skin and the way the muscles gather shadows. Jongho laughs lightly, eyes heavy with sleep. He watches you watch him, like he always has. Unbeknownst to you. You're his moon and stars. The prettiest thing in the world to him- most perfect too. You don't have to be actually perfect; he loves you as you are. His noona, his member, and his hard working friend. Friend isn't even the right word for jongho to describe your relationship. It's more so.. much more than that. It's a lot words can't describe.

His arm is curled under his head against his own pillow, his other hand reaching to pick up a piece of your hair and stroke it behind your ear. His thumb rubbing against your cheek. His gummy grin is nothing short of beautiful in your eyes when you make eye contact. Jongho has never been one for touch, but being mere inches apart; completely revealed to each other, you can't help but want to hold him like the big bear he is. Run your hands through his hair and kiss around his face until he's red.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks so quietly, you find it hard to believe he even did. You smile, nodding eagerly and shuffling into his embrace some more, hands enrapturing his neck to bring him in. He holds your face with his heavy palm, leaning down to passionately take your bottom lip between his. A slow sinatra that tells him exactly what he wanted to know and you the same. Both of your eyes close as you bask in each other's lips.

He pulls away with an extra breath against your lips, his hand falling away to rub against your shoulder. Soothing it in circles. Your own hands rubbing his neck, thumbing over the mole that you love to stare at. You lean up to kiss it softly, nuzzling your face under his chin affectionately. He lets you despite the racing of his heart, despite you being able to pull away and leave if you want. If you both want. His knot is gone but you're still with him.

The tissues on jonghos nightstand are soft enough to use to clean up, they're of great quality. He gently prys it from your hand as you reach for them and sits up to smooth it over your thighs, gathering yours and his fluids. He's a lot quicker than you're used to, a little rough as he swipes it over your still sensitive and soiled hole. You groan and he apologizes under his breath, tossing the last of it away after cleaning himself off, only the most soaked spots though. He grabs his sweats and shoves them on as he gets up.

He doesn't go far, the trash can by his bedside table is conventional. He takes your face in his hands when he leans over and kisses you deeply, just once before he's getting up and quickly gathering clothes from his drawer. His round eyes every so often flickering to you, as if you'll run away. As if you can. You laugh lightly at the thought, tucking yourself against his bed and pillows. You curl up with one of them, sighing heavily, avoiding the wet patch on jonghos bed.

Speaking of wet patch, jongho comes back with a pair of shorts and a tee on, you miss the skin, but his comfort is most important. He kisses your head when he leans over, hand placed over your back. He's touchy, so touchy. You love it, yet you're scared it'll only last so long. Scared of reciprocating it too much or else he'll flee.

“Look at me” jongho calls your name, interrupting your inner thoughts. You hum as you turn to your side. Jonghos palm falling across your cheek to turn your head towards him. “What's wrong?” Are you that obvious? You sigh “i- I'm just kinda, scared i'll touch you wrong” well. That's not exactly what you meant to say, but it's good enough. Jonghos eyebrows furrow. “Oh, jagi” he laughs at you softly, you go to turn away, suddenly embarrassed. “We just had sex and you're worried about touching me?” jongho voices his thoughts, head falling over your shoulder as he continues to giggle. “Nevermind,” you mumble, attempting to turn away in his grasp.

Jongho smooths his palm against your tummy, turning you back over to face him. “You can touch me, anytime” he responds softly. “Just be careful, we're still idols,” he jokes. You shake your head. “You're unbearable” you pout. “I know cub, but I'm not the one getting shy over touching” he slides in next to you, smiling wide. Eyes scrunching. Picture perfect as usual. His brown hair is hardly a mess, his cream shirt hugs him just right, and his shorts are gathering his thighs up under the loose fabric. He's pulling you gently up by the shoulders to slip his shirt over you now. At a loss for some bottoms.

You really could care less about going without underwear when jonghos shirt is practically a nightgown. The dark fabric makes you look genuinely tiny. You smooth your hand over the fabric when jongho manages to pull a towel out of his dirty laundry, shoving it onto the wet spot. “Where's that towel from?” You scrunch your nose at him. “Brought it back from the gym”

That explains the heavy odor of sweat.

You chuckle, pulling your hair out of the collar of the shirt. “So manly” you hum teasingly. Jongho rolled his eyes, caging himself against your back when he went to lay down on the pillow next to you. “You like it though, I saw you staring” you turn, he's hiding his face smugly in the pillow. “Jongho” you huff, a loss for words. “I don't stare” you mumble, slinking down to lay face to face with him. He shakes his head with a smile and laugh, smoothing his hand over your back once again. “You so do,” he hums. “I do too,” he goes on to admit. You grin cheekily. “Really? How often? When?” You encourage, hoping to get him to start turning red. He's slowly getting there, eyes scrunching closed.

“All the time, when you can't see” he says with a heavy breath, his body relaxing as he admits to it. You smile gently at the confession. “I do too” he laughs lightly at your words, eyes peeking open. “I know you do, you're not very good at hiding it” he bites his swollen lip before he continues, eyes raking over your comfortable figure. “you just can't help yourself can you?” He teases.

You shake your head. “Not when it's you” your finger trails up his neck, pushing on his lips. He parts them for you, kissing the tip of the digit. You sigh. He's so pretty. Your thighs clench. “Jjongie” you call his name softly, eyes glancing over his figure as you struggle to sit up, facing him fully. “Yes?” He quietly responds, hands falling to follow you. “Can you give me one more? Just one? Please” you whisper, head falling to his jaw and sucking the skin there in a sticky kiss.

Jongho moans silently, jaw falling open, he moves to your whim. Holding your hips as you lean over him. You take the opportunity to kiss his mole and neck, trailing down to litter tiny hickeys around the bite you left. Marking him some more. Sucking and teasing the skin. He's breathy, head pulled to the side to let you. You're maneuvering to lay on top of him. Straddling his hips.

“Can i jjongie?” You reach for the hem of his shirt, he's nodding, way too quickly for his liking but he doesn't care, already pressing his shorts against your thigh so he has some relief from the growth in them. You help him work it off his head, he lands against the pillow. He sighs as you stare down at him. Lips pursing when your tongue sticks out to wet them. Jongho rolls his hips against you, cursing the fabric of his pants for being the only separation.

You're peeling your shirt off next, jongho helping you do so. Finally, he's taking time to feel you up, whenever his greedy hands can reach. His tough hands kneading the flesh of your breasts, his thumb rolls over your nipple. You buck, moaning his name quietly, he eagerly responds with his own breathy moan. Leaning up to ask for a kiss, his head falls back down when you smash your lips onto his, suffocating his groans in your mouth. You swirl your hips forward, grinding your cunt against his covered cock.

Jonghos face scrunches, jaw falling slack- completely open as he leans his head against the pillow. “Can't wait noona” he mumbles, reaching down to unhook his sweat strings. You help him, tugging down his shorts the rest of the way. Your hips wiggle in anticipation.

Jonghos dick is flush and red from the strain, bobbing against his lower stomach with need. He grips it, stroking it once to satisfy the ache if only for a second. You grip his hand, grabbing it with your own and squeezing. A whimpered gasp falling off his tongue. He calls your name. “I'm gonna put you inside now jjongie- gonna make us feel so-so good” you whimper at your own words, lining up the tip of him to your hole. He stutters up, holding your waist.

“no prep?” his eyes widened in concern. You kiss his face softly, thumbing over the slit of his tip. He whines softly, eyes fluttering. “Don't need it,, just need you” you whisper against his lips, toying with him. Your head falls over his as you sink your hips down. There's a slow stretch and you're stopping when he's hardly inside. He whimpers, resisting the urge to buck into you. To get himself fully inside your hot walls and paint you again with his cum and scent.

“Told you-” he gasps when your hips sink down a bit more, clenching and tensing around him. “You needed prep,” he cuts himself off, guiding his hands against your waist. You huff, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. “s’ too big jjong” you rock your hips, guiding yourself forward and breathing through the stretch. Jongho doesn't comment on the pride he feels or the smug feeling he gets hearing that from you. He helps as much as he can, breathing with you and stilling. His eyes lock with yours when his thumb smooths down over your stomach to circle your clit.

You try your hardest not to move, whimpering. You're seeping along his length, trying to draw him in with pulses of your cunt. “Stop squeezing me- oh. Shi-” he covers his noises by biting his bottom lip. “Gonna cum if you keep doing that” he looks back down at where he stretches you out. Rocking you slowly, back and forth to sink further, you fall down the rest of the way on your own. Gasping loudly when he bottoms out completely. You fall over his chest, grasping along his length as you dig your head down into his neck. Jongho kisses your neck, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“too tight- ‘m moving? Okay? Gonna help you” he swirls your hips forward, gasping along with you. His hands capture your thighs, just under your hips to dig his blunt fingernails into you. He keeps the momentum until you're slightly lifting your hips up and dropping them onto him. The squelch makes jong buck, digging his length up to meet you. You moan his name next to his ear, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

His heels dig into the bed every time he thrusts up, rolling his hips with yours, there a pace you two are setting, sloppy. Just trying to get each other off quickly. His hand comes forward to circle your clit from between the both of you, dragging your ass up with his free hand to plant back onto his own thrusts. It's so short, cause you're already spasming around his cock. Crying at the wave of your orgasm already creeping up on you.

“Jongho-! JJongie gonna cum too quick-” you cry against his skin. He digs his fingers, all the more reason to continue his assault on your clit. “Just let go cub, I'm- mm- cum with you” he breathes out quickly, head thrown back in pleasure. His thighs shaking, he's so close, closer than you are, he's been holding it back the entire time.

You curl forward with a cry of his name, sobbing against his shoulder in ecstacy. Your thighs clench around his hips and waist roughly, trembling. Jongho grunts and moans as he stills inside you, rolling your hips back down onto him one last time to get himself all the way inside. His knot pops in the most gratifying way, sticking deep inside you whilst his load covers your womb. His neck is covered in sweat and so are your thighs. Everything feels sticky as you both breathe in unison.

“good?” Jongho laughs lightly, you laugh along. He whimpers dramatically when he feels you clench, mumbling how you shouldn't move as his fingers dig into your waist. You ignore his words, “s’was really good jongho, good job alpha” you compliment him, leaning off his chest to even out your shaky legs. He helps as much as he can, gripping you gently.

You hum with a comfortable sigh as you lay against his chest now. Legs locking up against him. Jonghos hand comes to hold your shoulder against him, fiddling with your palm. The light on the side of jonghos bed keeps you from sweet sleep. Jongho watches your face, relaxed and full of content.

“I love you”

He holds his breath, an accidental whisper of his real feelings. He ruined it- ruined the safe space he just made and completely broke down a wall that's supposed to be there, he tenses. You sigh softly; lip curling. “Love you too teddy bear”

It was bound to happen eventually, the stomping of feet in the hallway only gives enough time for jongho to pull his almost disregarded blanket over your bodies. His tough hands wrap around your shoulders protectively.

The only person to swing the door open is san, his hands holding the knob in a vice grip. His cheeks puffed up when he pokes his head in, eyes completely screwed shut to avoid seeing anything he didn't want too. “There's a hot shower waiting for you, not you” San attempts to point his finger in your direction then to jongho's, based on instinct he measures out where jonghos bed is. He's off by a lot. “Just so you two know it's rude to sneak off, I thought you were coming back” he pouts. Clearly missing you.

You smile into your words, cuddling closer to jongho for warmth against the cold and once abandoned blanket. “Be out in a lil bit, promise” you're surprised at how jongho didn't immediately throw something at san, yelling and telling him to get out. The younger alpha seems flabbergasted as San shuts the door.

His eyes lock back down to yours when you turn your head to see his face, his ears are red. The corner of his lips lifting as you stare, puzzled.

“Do you need company?”

Your shower is quick and easy, jongho helping you to clean up whilst he himself also cleans up, making sure you're able to stand on your own. It's sweet and innocent with him laughing every once in a while when he splashes you, you do the same back to him. He dries your hair gently, running the end of a comb to brush through what he can. He uses it on himself occasionally, warm air puffing up his bangs. He leaves with a towel wrapped around his waist and comes back wearing pajamas, different from the other ones he had on, a loose graphic gray shirt that only barely shows off the bite on his neck. Matching with a pair of heavy sweatpants. Your eyes glance over the bite, sticky with ointment that you insisted on rubbing along it, bruising hickeys lining up against his tan skin, you grimace.

“Jjong, what happened to your clothes?” Your eyebrows furrow, stopping the movement of rubbing ointment against the sensitive bites on your body. “You got them dirty love” he shrugs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily. He leans over to kiss your head. Basking in the height difference. You decide to just ignore his words, reaching for the clothing in his arms.

It's a pair of simple shorts and a shirt. A grey gym shirt? You glance up at jongho, the guy smiles shyly, hands creeping around your waist. It's fresh at least, still smells like jongho even though he hasn't worn it. You take a satisfied whiff and slip it on, pulling a pair of your own underwear on and lastly the dark shorts that are a bit too loose for you. They're not yours or jonghos. The length is too small for his taste.

“hongjoong?” you smell as his cologne wafts up to your nostrils, you shrug them on, tying the strings tighter before shoving the fresh pair of white socks on as well. “he wanted me to give them to you, to wear” he sighs, guiding you towards the hallway and shutting the light off behind you.

You smile at the younger alphas insisting to guide you, hands tugging yours with him. His larger palm is gripping around your wrist gently, rubbing against your scent glands.

The living room is noisy from the TV. Your nest comes into view as you both round the corner, jonghos hand slips from yours when he steps to the kitchen. You smile at the sight, seonghwa is practically laying halfway on hongjoong, sleeping, wooyoung on the other side of the leader. They're both on the far right of the nest, cuddled up with one of your blankets spread over each other.

Mingi and Yunho are sitting together on the propped up couch, probably taking interest in actually laying on it together instead of in it. Yeosang is laid face down in the middle of the nest, asleep on a pillow. San is placed on the far left of the nest, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Yunho seems to have been drifting, before Mingi perks up and leaps.

“dibs!” He gathers you in his arms before san can spring up from next to yeosang. San pouts, hands thrown up in defeat. “You weren't even a part of the conversation!” mingi laughs quietly. His hands swing you back and forth in his embrace. You shake your head, having no clue what they were calling dibs on or talking about. You shuffle forward, mingi steps over the empty spots to pull you down onto the couch next to him.

You fall onto mingis lap, feet sticking out and onto yunhos. The sleepy member doesn't seem to mind, his hand curling around so he can hold your ankle. A soft caress of his fingertips over the glands there. You take a deep breath, relaxing against mingi. He tilts your head up, demanding your attention.

“hi min” you greet him, pecking his jaw softly, as if on instinct. He preens, grinning, his lips growing wider and more shy. “hi,” he simply responds, as if a school boy saying hello to a pretty girl. “So..” he starts quietly over the TV. A conversation being held only for the two of you. “Mhm?” Yunho chimes in as he seeps into the couch on the other side. “mingi and i were wondering if you wanted to do some size training tomorrow”

The mentioned male sputters, waving his hand as Yunho flat out says what's on his mind. Mumbles of “that's not.. well-” “i-.. it is, size training- i mean..” coming from behind you. Your eyes widen. If size training is what he truly believes it is, and knowing yunho is massive.. are they planning to… yunho smirks at your expression.

“You think you could take two?” Yunho's eyebrow quirks, genuine interest in his dark eyes. Can you take two? This discussion is so casual, at least they're warning you. “depends” you sigh, leaning into mingi shyly, a pillow brought across your chest so you can hold it. “you could hardly take me, even after i.. you know” yunho seems to grow shy. “it's easier now” your hand comes up to cover your face at your own words. “I.. think it has to do with my- slick?” Mingi shifts from under you, are you even using the right term?

Yunho hums, lip poking out as he thinks. “That's what seonghwa said,” Yunho nods, sighing. “It's still better to be prepared” yunho shrugs, his hand rubbing patterns against your ankle.

“When you do take two, we can know the signs if it's too much for you.”

Yunho's cock does happen to be the biggest in the group out of all you’ve seen, probably to match his size and height. He's just big overall. So if he's big, then mingi (according to your logic of alphas and having big dicks) might actually be massive to also make up for his size. The cute, giggly, wide eyed member who clings to you.. it's too much to think about.

You hum, wiggling on mingis lap. The man sighs, trying to get comfortable from under you. There's a bulge that he doesn't feel like mentioning, hard because you talked about having sex. It's embarrassing to him. “yeah, let's try, it's better when I'm not post heat hazy, after breakfast?”

Why are you scheduling sex? You don't know, but for some reason there's no awkward tension, just passive buildup. It feels like you're planning a date as a couple that has been together for years. Comfortable and tingling. You turn to look mingi in the eyes, he's beet red. Ears flushing under the lights of the TV. “What do you think?”

He nods quickly, a short conformational hum leaving his throat. It bobbles when he swallows thickly. You smile, a huff of air escaping your nose.

“We'll do some size training then” yunho nods, head falling back over the arm of the couch where a pillow is propped. You turn into mingis' side, enjoying his warmth and scent you haven't had on you in a long time. He jumps, hands jolting to lighten his grip just to let you move freely. “Nervous?” You tease.

Mingi smiles, his lips pulling down into a concerned grin, he slots back into his spot. “I might ruin you” he admits with a quiet sigh “I can be rough- I am rough” he's warning you. You glance up at his face. Heat pooling into your own.

You've heard it before, heard about mingi being too rough during sex. Especially during his ruts. He's broken plenty of rut sanctuary beds, you've had to pick him up to pay for it. His skin sticky with sweat and looking much more masculine than when the guys dropped him off. You have your license, yet all you can think about when you drive is how insanely hot mingi looked coming out of the alpha building block, you were probably a liability on the road at that time. His hair is messy on his head and his body completely reeks. He smelt like an alpha who had a tough brawl of it with himself. And he wouldn't even look you in the eyes.

Whatever toys or help they provide never seemed to do the trick cause he seemed much more frustrated and quiet being picked up. You'd ask him if he was feeling better and he'd completely ignore you. He hardly spoke to you afterwards, needing at least three days to recover his attitude. And even after then, you've heard rumors amongst your idol friends about mingi in bed, despite not wanting to know you couldn't help eavesdropping.

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is this your way of telling me you're a warning sign?” Mingi laughs lightly at that, you must be okay with it.

“I'm just letting you know, that's why yunho's there.” he thumbs your chin, his eyes growing more lax.

“To bring you back when it gets too rough”

I went off the deep end with this one !!!! Literally need to have jonghos babies immediately, I can be the perfect wife, please one chance, jongho!! I no longer feminism when jongho exists. Thanks to my cutie patootie @uhhheather and my pookie bear @hhoneylix for helping me thru some plot and some of the smut teehee!! Ily guys (kisses screen). Also.. size training with yunho n mingi?... mingi being rough?? I have so much to write oh lawrd.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather (thanq u) @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix (ty, pookie) @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @spooo00oky @dawn-iscozy @ateezima @vannabanana1995 @fvlvy @caityelise99 @emmmui (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎ if you want to be added to the taglist comment here -> ★ )

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mulloey · 6 months ago

Text

ill-fated • yunho

in some kind of cruel trick, the universe has fated you to the person who hates you most.

an ateez werewolf au.

word count: 8.7k

tags: werewolf!au, soulmate!au, alpha!yunho, omega!reader, inaccurate depiction of omegaverse as i’m not familiar with the genre. warnings under the cut

warnings: dom!yunho, sub!reader, mentions of coercion, grooming and segregation, discrimination (none of those by yunho), unequal power dynamics, mentioned punishment. MASSIVE dick!yunho, slight corruption, BITING, pet names, titles (alpha/omega. sorry). rude yunho at first. not proof read

—————

You are fucking irritating.

Yunho doesn’t know much. As an alpha since birth he was raised separately from the omegas — fragile little bunnies who could so easily have been ripped apart if he’d been having a bad day — and given very limited access to the outside world. “The people out there,” his father had told him, “could do as much damage to you as you could to them.” As such, he’d been entirely sheltered and shielded, separate from everything he could threaten or be threatened by. So no, Yunho doesn’t know much. Not about omegas, anyway. But what he does know is that you are fucking irritating.

He’s never even met you, never been given the chance, yet he knows this. He sees you from across the grounds, through the fence neither of you have ever crossed; sees your annoying face, scrunched up in a pout or a huff whenever something doesn’t go your way. He hears your whines and pleads and that irritating giggle when a weaker wolf than he gives into your antics and gives you what you want. Even from across the grounds he hears it all and he wants nothing more than to shut you up. He stays up at night picturing it — finally putting you in your place, showing you how a stupid little omega is supposed to behave. Showing you that despite the alphas you’ve encountered who bend and cater to your every whim just because you’re cute, there are some out there with a stronger will than that. There are some who’d be all too happy to set you straight, to keep you in line and teach you to behave the way your teachers clearly failed to. God, he wants to be the one to do it.

He watches you today with a scowl. You’re giggling and jeering with your friends, skipping happily around the garden with some kind of kite. How juvenile, he thinks. His lip curls at the sight. You’re only a few years younger than him; you must be in your early twenties by now — you have no reason to be so childish, so immature and… cute. He hates that word. Hates using it on you. Fuck, he could just—

“Christ, Yunho.”

He looks up, thoughts interrupted by his best friend, sitting next to him with a half-amused, half-concerned expression. “What, Mingi?” He huffs.

“Are you still watching that little omega?”

He shrugs, muttering to himself and Mingi laughs. “You are. Jesus, dude, it’s been years. Why are you so obsessed with her?”

“I’m not obsessed,” Yunho snaps far too quickly. Mingi raises an eyebrow. “I’m not obsessed,” he repeats, more slowly. “She’s just annoying. She needs to grow up. She’s so childish.”

“They’re all childish, Yunho, they’re omegas. That’s what they’re like. And yet she bothers out of all of them. That seems like obsession to me.”

“Well it’s not,” Yunho says, irritated. His gaze still follows you, now sat with your friends in a circle and listening to one of the others tell some kind of story. You watch her intently, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You look interested, thoughtful. He scoffs, shaking his head. He hates how every single emotion shows on your face, hates how he knows exactly what’s going on in your stupid little head just by watching the way your nose scrunches and your lips twitch. He hates it. At least you’re listening well, he thinks.

“You’re kidding,” Mingi says. “You’re literally watching her right now. Fuck man, you’re practically studying her and you’re not obsessed?”

“Who’s obsessed?”

They both turn to see their friend and the heir to the pack, Hongjoong, approaching with drinks in his hands. He sits down next to Mingi, handing each of them a drink which they accept. He stares at Yunho for a second, noticing the irritated expression on his face, and locks eyes with Mingi, looking confused.

“Yunho,” Mingi explains, “is staring at that little omega again. He fucking hates her, man. It’s not healthy”

Hongjoong snorts. “It’s not hate.”

The other two whip their heads to face him, Mingi looking confused and Yunho irate. “What?” They both ask.

Hongjoong chuckles, taking a sip before he speaks. “It’s not hate,” he repeats. “It’s been what, years, right?”

“His whole life more like,” Mingi mutters. Yunho elbows him and he yelps. Hongjoong shakes his head.

“Yeah, years he’s been obsessing over how much he hates her. Do you even know her name?”

Yunho shrugs, irritated and Hongjoong laughs. “Yeah. You will one day, though. Because you don’t hate her.”

“Of course I hate her, Hongjoong!” Yunho protests, trying to keep it down so the nearby alphas don’t intercept the conversation. “She’s fucking annoying, dude. Look at her. Can you really say you don’t hate her?”

Hongjoong shares a look, knowing and exasperated, with Mingi and places a hand on Yunho’s shoulder, squeezing it gently before walking off. Yunho turns back to Mingi, confused expression on his face and Mingi sighs before speaking.

“We can’t even see her from this far, Yunho.”

—————

You’ve been noticing it for a while. Your friend was the first one to point it out; a kind, temperate beta named Alexa. “Over there,” she’d said. “By the fence. There’s an alpha that’s been staring at you for a while.”

You’d followed her gaze to see two figures on the other side of the fence, one of them staring intently over at you. The other man, almost as tall as him, seemed to be attempting some kind of conversation, but to no avail; his friend’s entire attention was set on you, on staring you down with a scowl. He looked displeased, irritated as he glared at you and it was intimidating. You felt yourself shrink slightly under his gaze, feeling small and vulnerable and almost scolded.

Put out, you’d turned back to Alexa worriedly. “Why is he doing that?”

“I don’t know,” she’d sighed. “But don’t worry. Just stay away from the fence, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “As always.”

So you did. You stayed away from the fence — though it wasn’t a big ask as that was what the rules bid you do anyway — and pretended not to see his eyes on you, to hear the whispers from the other omegas about that alpha that keeps staring at the girl over there. It wasn’t unusual to have an alpha stare over, of course; after all, the people on each side of the fence would of course one day be matched with each other. But it was weird for an alpha to be so fixated and so… angry at one omega in particular, especially one they haven’t made a single move to approach. And it worried you. You wondered if you were doing something wrong, if there was something wrong with you that made you so unappealing to this alpha and, God forbid, may turn the other alphas off you too, when it came to the day when you’d be matched with one. And you didn’t even know what it was!

But there was nothing you could do, of course, without actually approaching the fence which would risk your life, so you ignored it, trying to enjoy your days the way you normally did. But it lingered in the back of your mind, always hovering there, bothering and worrying you. Why did he hate you so much? And why you?

You find out a few weeks later. It’s the day of the mating ceremony — to the town, the most important day of the year, and to you the most important day of your life. Because this year, among the hundreds of alphas and omegas due to be matched is you.

The procedure is simple, and you’ve rehearsed it enough at school to know it like the back of your hand; in your nicest, whitest dress, you’ll walk gracefully down to the stage, a low wooden platform surrounded by towering rows of seats. The head of the pack, some man you’ve never met and yet have spent your entire life swearing loyalty to, will select for you a mate — one of the many alphas vying for an omega, under whose control you’ll spend the rest of your life. It’s a crucial, irreversible moment; the chief’s decision is final, because he has the experience and the instincts to know who ought to be paired with who, which pairings will further the pack’s prosperity. It’s an ancient, foolproof system, so you tell yourself. No matter how many times you say it it doesn’t quite resonate.

The walk to the town hall is nerve wracking; you cling to the hand of the omega beside you, an equally nervous boy named Zhou. Knowing you’re being watched on your journey by the hundreds, even thousands of people who line the streets each year to witness it, you keep your eyes fixed on the ground, trying to focus on each slow step, each tap of your white ballet shoes against the cobbled streets. It’s eerily silent; a funeral more than a celebration.

When the town hall comes into view you feel yourself shudder; like everything on this side of the fence, it’s large and imposing and much grander than you’re used to. You shrink into yourself slightly but don’t allow yourself to stop; you have to make a good impression.

You’re guided to your seat, just above the stage and sink into it with a sigh of relief. You’re in the clear until your name is called — and that could take hours. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the fresh air wafting through the open window near to your block of seats. It’s rich and earthy and strangely… homely. You’ve never smelled something quite like this before.

On the other side of the stage, Yunho and his friends sit slouched in the alphas section of the seats. They’re a little bored, to no one’s surprise — like many alphas they’ve been to several of these ceremonies; it’s common for an alpha to take several years to finally be matched, there’s no shame in it. Often it’s simply a matter of waiting for the right omega to come of age. And it’s not up to them, anyway — the chief is the one who knows who belongs with who.

He cranes his neck, turning to look over at Hongjoong, who stares straight ahead with a severe expression. No wonder he looks so serious, Yunho thinks; one day this ancient ceremony, and the sacred matching of everyone in this town, will be down to him. It must weigh on him. He wonders if those instincts — instincts that will make or break the future of the pack — have begun to show yet. He shrugs, slouching back. Not his problem. Craning his neck to try to get a glimpse of the blurry selection of omegas this year, he figures he has his own things to worry about.

The ceremony starts slowly and typically; an endless, droning speech by the pack leader, before the first, tense matches get underway. They seem decent this year, he has to admit; a few of the alphas he knows decently well are matched, each with their own beautiful, well-trained omega, who greets their new master with practised grace. He feels a twinge of jealousy. He’s by no means too old to be matched, and certainly isn’t the oldest alpha in the section, but he’s just a man. Just an alpha. He may not need, but he wants an omega of his own, a pretty, obedient little thing to spoil and care for and mould into the perfect life partner for him. He wants… well, he’s not sure what exactly. He can’t see past the annoying, ever-present image of you in his mind. Sneering at him, tormenting him.

When they read your name, he knows it’s you. It’s a name he’s never heard and yet when the syllables leave the announcer’s mouth, he knows who’s about to stand up before you do. He perks up, surprised to see you making your way down the stairs; he hadn’t known you were being matched this year. He should have, he supposes; from your looks and the people you hang around with he figured you’d be about 21 by now, but to actually see you, knowing you’re about to be given away, is an odd, conflicting feeling.

He watches as you bid your friends goodbye before walking slowly towards the centre of the hall. You take a brief look around at the audience, at the hundreds, even thousands of pairs of eyes on you, before your gaze reverts to the ground. You’re shy and more demure than he’s ever seen you. If only you were like this all the time, he thinks, he’d feel a little less sorry for the poor alpha who you’re about to be given to. He looks around at the other alphas, wondering who you’ll get. They all watch you intently, apparently quite enamoured by you and he scoffs. They have no idea what you’re like. They don’t know what it would take to tame you; he doubts any of them, even Hongjoong, would be up to the task. He wonders who is. He slumps back in his seat, waiting to find out.

“Omega,” the announcer says. “You are already soul-tied to an alpha in this pack.”

He sits up, more interested now, as do the rest of the audience. A soul-bond is quite rare, and he’s never seen one in person; far beyond even the pack leader’s control, it’s an ancient, mythical bonding ritual that until now, he wasn’t even entirely convinced was real. The others are surprised too; he hears whispers of who it will be, who it is that’s been destined for you from the beginning, and listens eagerly as the announcer opens a sheet of paper, bringing the microphone to her lips and reading out two short words.

“Jeong Yunho.”

He baulks. His jaw drops and he stands up indignantly, swearing he’d heard it wrong. Jeong Yunho. That’s his name. Theres no fucking way. He turns outraged to the men beside him who look entirely unsurprised. He growls, remembering what they’d told him weeks ago. Curse them. Curse them for being right.

The announcer repeats his name, waiting for him to go down to greet you and Mingi nudges him forward. “Well, Yunho,” he grins. “Looks like you’ll get to put her in her place after all.”

————

After the ceremony you’re led to another room, with a small table and couch. In it is a beta you faintly recognise, a kind and unassuming looking woman but for the fact that she’s holding a pair of handcuffs.

“Will you come willingly, omega?” She asks.

“Yes,” you say, “I will.”

Not that you have a choice — you know what happens to omegas who resist their matches; and though you knew straight away this Yunho was the man who’s been glaring at and bothering you so much, having seen him a little closer now, you figure you’re lucky to have at least gotten an attractive alpha. And you couldn’t stand the humiliation of being dragged across the grounds in handcuffs anyway.

“Good,” the woman smiles. She pockets the handcuffs, in case you change your mind, you assume, and takes your hand. “I’ll take you to your alpha, then.”

The walk to your alpha’s house is short; he lives right next to the town hall. He must be important, you think, and the size of his house certainly suggests that. You swallow thickly as you stare up at it and the woman squeezes your hand. “Nothing to worry about, omega,” she smiles. “Yunho’s a lovely young man. Just be good and obey him and you’ll have a wonderful life with him, okay?”

You nod shyly and she pinches your cheek. The skirt of the dress you’d been given for the ceremony catches on your shoes as you make your way up the stairs of his house and she reaches down to untangle it, keeping you steady and graceful as you wait by the door.

A few seconds after the doorbell rings, the large oak door creaks open, revealing the stern-looking man from earlier. As close as you’ve ever been, you grasp for the first time how tall and how handsome he really is. You blush, looking down. He bids the women goodbye, as do you, before beckoning you inside. The door slams shut behind you, making you jump a little. He studies your reaction, watching your carefully before he comes to stand in front of you.

“Omega.”

You shuffle in place, gazing intently at the ground — anywhere but at him. He shakes his head. “Look at me and greet me properly, omega,” he says, a little more sternly.

Shyly you lift your head, staring up at him with hooded eyes. They’re almost… doe-ish, he thinks. More like prey than another wolf. “Alpha,” you whisper.

He nods. “Introduce yourself.”

Shyly you start to whisper your name, but he stops you. “The surname is wrong,” he says. “It’ll be Jeong now. Omegas take the alpha’s name.”

You sigh nervously, nodding. You feel stupid to have forgotten that and he clearly already thinks that you are stupid; you want to kick yourself for proving him right so quickly. “Yes, alpha,” you whisper.

“Introduce yourself,” he repeats. “And this time get it right.”

You try it again, using his surname this name and he nods, satisfied but unsmiling. “Good,” he says. “Now, omega. I doubt you were expecting to be given in a soul-tie like that, and neither was I. But the fact remains that you are my omega now, and you will act like it. That means following the rules and standards I give. Got it?”

Unsure but hoping to please him, you agree. He stares at you as though he’s scrutinising you — which he probably is. “I understand, alpha.”

“I don’t expect you to meet my standards right away,” he continues. He speaks coolly, casually but you can tell this is serious. “You’re just an omega, after all. And I’ve been watching you for a while and I can see that even for an omega, you’re quite a brat.”

You don’t know if you’re supposed to reply — to protest or dispute him or agree with his insults, so you just stare at him, letting him continue. That seems to please him at least.

“I know you have the betas under your thumb,” he says with almost a sneer. “Even some of the alphas, too. But you won’t have me. I’ve been waiting a long time to put you in your place and by some miracle the Gods have dropped you right into my lap to do so.”

You gulp. You wonder what he’s going to do to you — you know as his God-given omega he has the right to do anything he likes, so long as you aren’t killed or ‘severely and permanently injured’. In this pack, at least, there are slightly higher standards for the conduct of alphas towards their omegas, but they’re still low. And now that you’ve been given to him, he has the right to control, care for and discipline you however he chooses.

“What are you going to do?” You whisper.

“Well, I assume you’re aware of what I can do,” he says. You nod. “But unlike some of the alphas here, I have a personal policy that I intend to stick to.”

“What’s that?”

“Other than your brand—” you gulp at the mention of the large, obvious mating mark he’s probably going to be giving you shortly “—I will never permanently mark you in any way. Not from sex, not from punishment, nothing. Understand?”

You nod, feeling relieved. You know the law and you know that, if he wanted to, he’d be perfectly entitled to cover your entire body in deep, lasting marks — so long as they don’t cause actual damage. But he doesn’t want to do that, for some reason. Maybe he’s not scary after all; although the mention of punishment, though expected, sends a small shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He hums. “As for your question…”

You tilt your head, looking confused. “About what?”

He lifts an eyebrow — surprised, apparently. “About what I’m going to do to you.”

“Oh.” You forgot you’d asked that. Stupid omega, you can almost hear him thinking.

“Yes, about that. The simple answer is, I’m going to treat you like an omega should be treated.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning I’ll take care of you,” he says. “In all ways. By looking after you, guiding you, comforting you, and of course, disciplining you when I see fit.”

His words dizzy you slightly, affecting you in more ways than one. You find yourself picturing all the ways he’ll fulfil that promise; everything he might do to you. Everything he could do. You swallow, voice thick. “Discipline me how?”

He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed but amused. “It shouldn’t be a mystery,” he says. “There aren’t as many ways to get through to omega like you as there are of getting through to, say, a beta. You’re wired to require a more…” He tuts, shaking his head, “…hands on approach.”

Oh. Visions of him towering over you, wielding a stick or a whip or any one of the multitudes of weapons you’ve heard are frequently used on omegas, fill your head. Your heart races again, fearful and you instinctively back off a bit. He seems to know exactly what you’re thinking because he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m not going to beat you, omega,” he says.

You blink, surprised and not quite believing. “You’re not?”

“No,” he says. “Why did you think I was? Is that the only way to get through to you?”

“No,” you whisper. “I just heard…”

“Well you heard wrong,” he says, tone final. You nod demurely, no more will to argue. “I’m not some feral wolf chasing lost omegas through the forest. I have more control than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. He nods, jaw tense.

“Listen to me,” he continues, voice firm. “I’m never going to beat you with a stick, or whip you, or any of that.” Your eyes widen slightly; that’s exactly what you were thinking. Can he actually read your mind? You stay silent, letting him continue. “I’ll never strike you in anger, either. Now that you’re mine, you are — whether I like it or not — precious to me. I intend to take good care to keep you safe and unsullied.”

“But you will… strike me,” you say softly. You can’t say you’re surprised — or even disappointed. You ignore the way your heart speeds up slightly at the thought of him hitting you — his wide palm clapping against your skin again and again.

“If I have to,” he says. “But we’ll talk about that later.” For the first time he offers what you could almost fool yourself into thinking is a reassuring smile. “For now we have the most important part.”

Your heart starts to race at his words. You know exactly what he’s referring to — you’ve been told of this moment since childhood, both through textbooks at school and scary stories told around the campfire just on the edge of the woods that is completely off limits for omegas. The mating, they call it, is the most important moment of an omega’s life; however long you’ve been with an alpha, you’re not truly their omega until they’ve left that deep, permanent mark on you — the branding. And as scared as you still are of Yunho you know there are far worse alphas to be paired with, so as terrifying at the words mating and branding sound to you, you’re eager to get it over with — to be bonded to Yunho for life, officially claimed. You can deal with Yunho, you think, not least because he’s apparently been literally created by the Gods to be yours. You do not want to deal with the other alphas you see prowling about. This will protect you from that if nothing else.

“Okay,” you say. “I’m ready.”

He looks almost surprised at your obedience and smiles, a little wider this time. “Good,” he says. “I’m glad. I’ll take good care of you.”

You look up, still surprised that a man who’d for so long looked at you with such…vitriol, who’d looked so horrified at being matched with you, would have a single ounce of desire to be nice to you. Certainly not during the first time he takes you. “Really?” You ask.

“Yes,” he says. “A soul bond is rare and if something happens to you, I won’t get another. Plus—” he pauses, sighing like he can’t believe what he’s about to say “—if the Gods put you with me themselves, they must have seen your potential to be the kind of omega I like. So deep down, there probably is some part of you that wants to obey me. I just have to drag it out of you, I think.”

You bite your lip, shivering slightly. For some reason you kind of like that idea; the image of being forced to obey. Physically compelled to listen and revere him. “Yes, alpha.”

“Well,” he says. For once he looks a little unsure. “I guess there’s no point delaying it any further, is there?”

You swallow, understanding immediately what it is. “No, alpha.”

He nods almost grimly, tapping his foot against the wooden floor. “Alright then. We’re going to go to my bedroom now.”

You blink. “We don’t share one?”

His eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing and you instinctively bow your head. “No,” he says. “Not yet. You’ll have your own room until you earn the privilege to sleep with me.”

You nod — you’d heard that before. It’s a common practice for new mates, particularly… unwilling ones, which you suppose he is at least, as admittedly crushing as that is to think.

It’s a crucial rule, your teacher had told you; an easy and blatant mark of who is above and who is beneath. Doesn’t make it very nice to hear though.

“Follow me,” he says.

He starts to walk and, lost in your thoughts, it takes you a second to realise. By the time you scurry after him he’s already noticed and regards you with a stern, but slightly amused expression. “You’re in a daze, omega,” he says. “Try to get out of your head now. Focus on my commands. Let’s go.”

He starts to walk again and this time there’s no delay in your obedience; you start to walk beside him, matching his pace until he stops you, looking irritated. You wonder what you’ve done wrong now — or if you could ever do anything right.

“Did no one teach you about walking with your alpha?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug, shaking your head. “I don’t think so, alpha.”

He sighs. “I will, then,” he says. “When I walk you are to walk half a step behind me. Even if we’re holding hands I will not be seen to allow an omega — my omega, at that — to walk in front of me. Got that?”

You nod, flushing — you’ve never heard that rule, though it’s not entirely foreign to you. Maybe you’d been zoned out when your teacher had gone over it. It wouldn’t be surprising; but in any case you’ve been taught it now so you may as well obey it — and if it makes Yunho like you a little bit more, that’s a bonus. You shuffle behind him, careful never to quite catch up with him and he keeps a close eye on your efforts. You see him nod in satisfaction and allow yourself a small smile. You can do this — you’ve been trained for this. You’re a born and bred omega, and a well-trained one at that. You can obey your alpha with your eyes closed.

Arriving outside the tall oak door, he pauses, turning to you. He lifts a strong, large hand to cup your cheek and you feel a slight jolt when he makes contact. Based on the look on his face, you know he felt it too. He stares at you, eyes narrowed before he exhales. “Soul-tied indeed,” he mutters. “There’s no escape now, then. For either of us.”

“I’ll be good,” you say; the words leave your mouth of their own accord, almost automatically. Yunho is silent for a moment, lips parted in surprise before he chuckles slightly.

“Perhaps training you up won’t be as monumental a task as I’d thought,” he says. “You just need a firm hand, I think.”

You say nothing, unsure how to reply and by now incredibly on-edge.

“Come in.”

He opens the door to reveal his room and you bite back a noise of surprise. You figured his room would be specious, well decorated; this is another level. The only way you could describe it is lavish. Thick, embroidered drapes hang from windows that reach from floor-to-ceiling; meeting the thick, warm carpets that cover the floors. A crackling fire burns on one side of the room, next to an open door leading to a bathroom; on the other side, a king-size bed, richly decorated and surrounded by four intricately carved posters holding up a canopy. After he enters you take a step inside, slightly dazed. Having spent the past few years of your life in the omega dormitories, you’ve never seen anything like this; you’re not sure if this is just the way alphas live or if Yunho is particularly important — either way, this is overwhelming. He watches your reaction with a slight smirk. “What do you think?” He asks.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “I— it’s wonderful, alpha. I’ve never seen something like this.”

“Ah yes,” he says, nodding like he’s just realised. “You’ll have been in the omega dormitories, won’t you? This must be quite the shock.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, still staring open-mouthed around the room.

He chuckles, taking your hand again. “You have plenty of time to admire it later. For now…” He looks you up and down again — he keeps doing that, you think. It’s a little unnerving.

You nod demurely, knowing and accepting the fate on the tip of his tongue. “I’m ready.”

The low sounds of the fire is all that’s audible for a few moments before Yunho nods; as he does, shoulders tensing and untensing slightly, a foreign look crosses his eyes — a darkness; a glint. You gulp, understanding it; not necessarily recognising it consciously, but feeling it in your bones, your veins, the deepest parts of your DNA — the parts that make you an omega. His omega.

“Take off your clothes,” he says, voice dropping. “Let me see you.”

You hurry to obey, pulling off your thin shawl and shimmying out of the sleeves of your dress. At the bodice you falter; hindered slightly by the tight and complex fastenings of your corset. You huff a little, slightly vindicated; you’d told your matron this was too difficult, warmed her it may prove a problem for the alpha you were matched with but she’d slapped you, as hard as someone is legally allowed to slap an omega that’s not theirs, before fastening it tighter as some kind of petty revenge. Trying to get it undone, you look up at Yunho with pleading eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, confused.

“My corset, alpha,” you whisper.

He sighs, biting back a chuckle before rounding you to inspect the fastenings running down your back. “Oh dear,” he says. “They really packed you in there, didn’t they? I feel quite useless at this.”

“You just need to untie it,” you whisper.

He clears his throat, resting two large hands on your delicate hips — you’ve never felt as small as you do now. Even in that massive auditorium. “I can try,” he says quietly.

He sets to work and, to both of your surprise, seems to get the hang of it quickly; skilled fingers undo each fastening with careful efficiency and soon the dress falls off of you entirely, pooling at your feet and leaving you in your underwear. You feel his eyes on you, practically staring a hole through you with the intensity of his gaze. You flush, turning to face him. “Alpha…” you whisper, eyes cast downwards.

You hear him exhale — deep and relieved as if he’d been holding his breath. When you look up you see his eyes are wide, pupils dilated. “You look… exquisite, omega.”

In the dim light of his room, illuminated by the crackling fire, you see him in a way you haven’t before. He almost looks… golden. Your reservations about Yunho aside, you see now why your match with him was created by the Gods — it’s clear that when it comes to this man, everything was. There’s nothing secular about him; not a single hair or pore untouched by divinity. You gulp, stepping forward, heart pounding. “Will you kiss me, alpha?” You ask.

He doesn’t waste a second; he pounces on you quickly and without restraint, attacking your mouth with his, emanating sounds you can only describe as feral. He nips and bites at your lips, running his hands across your partially nude body with growing hunger. You moan into his mouth, breathing in and gasping slightly when his hand closes around your neck, stilling you. He backs up a bit, staring you down with eyes that are now entirely dark.

“Listen to me,” he growls. “You’re my omega and I’m going to make you a good one. You’re going to do everything I say, when I say it. Do you understand?”

You nod, dazed. “Yes, alpha.”

He releases you, sending you staggering backwards and he watches you with an amused smile. You stand still for a second, waiting for his command and he tilts his head. You try not to let your reaction show, but you know what he’s doing. He’s playing with his food.

“Come here.”

You take another hesitant step towards him. He stares deeply into your eyes for a second before a strong hand on your shoulder forces you to your knees. Your head bows instinctively and you rest your hands in your lap like you’ve been taught. From lowered eyes you look up and see him nod in satisfaction. “Very good, omega,” he smiles. “I’m pleased to see you’ve already mastered this position. It will be a familiar one for you.”

You nod, trying to sit a little more straight; with such a… distraction in front of you, staring you down, it could be easy to lose focus, so you make a conscious effort to keep the position — back straightened, head bowed and legs together. He walks a slow circle around you, inspecting your efforts. From his slight nod you guess he’s pleased with them. “Spread your legs a little,” he says softly.

“Yes, alpha.” You shift your knees ever so slightly, creating a slight gap between your legs. He watches you closely as he rounds back to face your front. Taking a step towards you he places his foot between your parted thighs — not kicking or shoving them apart any further, just sitting there, noting the gap between them.

“Good,” he says. “This is the position I want you to remember. The same one you’ve been taught but with your legs spread just enough for me to do this. Do you understand?”

You nod, swallowing thickly. He shakes his head. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you whisper. At his arched brow you add a hurried “alpha” and he smiles.

“When I tell you to get in position, I want you to do this,” he says. “When I come home from work each day, I want you waiting by the door like this. Alright?”

“Alright,” you whisper.

He stares at you for a moment, face blank but eyes focused, fixed. You’re not sure what he’s doing — examining you? Appreciating you? Planning, maybe? You shift a little, feeling awkward. “Be still,” he says. You whisper an apology and he smiles, holding out his hand.

You take it nervously, allowing him to pull you to your feet with ease. You seem to weigh nothing to him, you think. He leads you carefully to the bed, his grip strong on your hand, and pats the thick blanket folded neatly into each corner. “Come,” he commands softly.

Moving to obey, you find the bed is a little too high — makes sense, you suppose, considering it was built for an alpha. He chuckles, recognising your predicament and grabs you gently, lifting you up and carefully placing you atop the blankets. You blush. “Sorry,” you mutter.

He laughs, shaking his head. “No need to be sorry, sweetheart,” he smiles. He clicks his tongue, thoughtful. “Besides… it’s a pleasant surprise just how light you are.”

“Light?” You repeat.

He hums. “Delicate.”

You bite your lip — a little too hard, apparently, because you soon taste blood. His eyes widen slightly at the sight, flooded with hunger but you know he can control himself — you thank the Gods you’re wolves and not vampires. He clears his throat, looking a little dazed and you smile to yourself. You’re doing that.

“Lie back on the pillow,” he says. “It’s time, omega.”

Ignoring the speeding of your heart, you shuffle back, situating yourself in front of the pillow and slowly lying down. You feel yourself become a little lightheaded as you do; excited and terrified all at once. This is the moment you’ve waited for all your life. To be marked, to be claimed, to be mated. Bound forever. Closing your eyes, you try to steady your breathing — in, out, in, out, you chant to yourself over and over. As you do you feel a large, warm hand place itself gently on your shoulder. You don’t need to open his eyes to see, feel his presence inches from your face. “Keep breathing, omega,” he mutters. His voice is low, deep, alpha.

You lift a shaking hand to place it atop of his — even with your eyes closed you can tell he’s impossibly bigger than you. You nod. “I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment before a low, soft growl starts to fill the room. It’s barely audible — you wonder if anyone else would even hear it, or if it’s part of your connection with Yunho you’re just beginning to discover. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sight of him hovering above you. He looks unsure but focused, brimming with strength and desire he’s waiting to unleash. Waiting for what?

You reach a hand out, touching his face; it’s impossibly warm and drenched with sweat. Your voice almost gets caught in your throat but you push it out. “Take me,” you whisper. “Take me, alpha.”

It’s immediately clear that was all he needed; the moment you utter those last two fated syllables, a permission, command and plea at the same time, he pounces, diving into you to take you for his own. Your bra comes off easily, ripped off with his teeth. As they move towards your panties they graze against your skin, leaving a thin trail of blood and you can tell these are not his human teeth. No, Yunho isn’t human right now, but nor is he a wolf — he’s right in the sweet spot where he’s as dominant, controlled and calculated as he is when human, but at the same time sharp, sadistic and utterly feral. The perfect mix; the perfect place. You arch your body up off the bed, offering yourself to him, pulling yourself closer. He digs his teeth into the thin band of your panties, ripping them off and discarding them without a word before his hands grab your hips, shoving them back into the mattress. “Down,” he growls, and his voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it.

Wet, desperate kisses attack every inch of your now entirely bare skin, peppering the light, superficial bites he leaves; enough to hurt and enough to bleed but not enough to count. Not enough to brand you. No, that bite is special, anticipated, sacred — he can’t do it yet. You both know it and he holds himself back with the knowledge.

“Spread your legs,” he orders. “Nice and wide for me.”

Your breath hitches, catching in your throat. Slowly you start to part your legs, dragging them apart nervously. You’re nervous, hesitant; he still hasn’t seen your pussy yet, your most intimate and sacred area that he’s shortly going to claim in its entirety.

You’re terrified; terrified he won’t like it, he’ll think it’s ugly, he’ll think it’s not as good as the omegas he’s fucked before. You know that’s not true, realistically; mated by the gods, he’s wired to want you, need you in every way, every part of you. But no one’s ever seen you like that before — seen you there.

Yunho snarls, not fooled by your efforts to delay it. “Too slow,” he says. He grabs your legs, yanking them apart painfully and you yelp, slipping backwards again.

“Yunho…” you start — then stop. When you look up, Yunho is staring directly at your heat, eyes wide and ablaze, practically salivating. A low growl emanates from his throat, making your hairs stand on end. You shiver.

“Baby,” he says. “You’re perfect. I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

A whine slips from your mouth, nervous and aroused and he shushes you. “You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

He sits back up, eyes growing dark by the minute as he hurriedly stands, allowing him to remove his pants and underwear. When he gets to the thin white dress shirt, fastened with what, in this daze of need, seems to be hundreds of buttons, he seems to grow impatient — with a low growl he easily rips it open, buttons flying everywhere. He hurriedly discards it, leaving him nude and allowing you to see him fully for the first time. You bite back a moan — he’s beautiful. Every inch of his torso is toned and perfected, skin glistening with sweat; strong, muscular thighs support his weight and as he walks back towards the bed, you see the thick muscles tensing and untensing in his arms. But that’s not where your eyes are drawn; it’s a beautiful sight, but you’re still an omega — a hungry, desperate omega at that, so your gaze is fixed a little lower. His dick is long and impossibly thick, pulsating with desire and already leaking slightly from the angry red tip. It looks painful. Delicious. You inhale sharply, willing it towards you. “Yunho…”

“I’m here,” he mutters, he clambers back onto the bed, hovering on top of you and this time wastes little time. Holding his shaft in his hand, he pumps it once, twice, getting it ready. His eyes are fixed on your entrance, entirely black and you know if this wasn’t your alpha, the one bound to protect and care for you, you’d be utterly terrified. He’s massive and powerful and dwarfs you in every way. He could rip you apart.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. It slips out without your permission but he doesn’t mind. He squeezes your thigh, comforting and possessive.

“I know.” He lines his dick up to your entrance, teasing it with the tip and you jump. You’ve never been touched there before. Not even by yourself. He chuckles, reaching to stroke your hair. “Keep breathing,” he says. “Focus on my voice.”

When he finally pushes in, you feel the true scale of his size for the first time. It forces and stretches you open and you feel like you’re going to burst, come undone at the seams or collapse into yourself entirely. But the same stretch, the same burning feeling is insanely, viscerally pleasurable. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, anything you’ve dreamed of — or feared. It’s new and divine and just feels… right. He really was made for you.

He’s taking it slow, you can tell; you feel the way he’s holding himself back, forcing himself to be gentle, and you know that’s probably as painful for him as for you. You see the way his limbs shake as he pushes in, struggling to hold themselves back from pinning you down and splitting you open me you bite your lip. “You can move now,” you say softly, invitingly.

He looks at you quizzically for a moment, brows furrowed, before his lips bloom into an amused, knowing smile. “Omega,” he chuckles. “I’m only halfway in.”

You can’t help it; your jaw drops, falling open in shock. That can’t be right. He can’t be— oh. You look down, seeing the truth of his words. He’s halfway inside and you already feel like this. What the fuck will it feel like when he’s actually, properly in?

You soft whine sounds from the bottom of your throat, a million emotions behind it; fear, desperation, a visceral arousal. “Keep going,” you urge, though half of your brain is screaming at you not to.

Something flashes across his eyes and he shakes his head, squeezing your thigh again a little more harshly. “I’ll decide, omega,” he says. You nod, muttering an apology and he groans. “Fuck, omega. I swear I’m gonna teach you some fuckin’ manners.”

“Alpha—”

“No, not now,” he chuckles, knowing what you were going to ask. “I have a long, long time to do that. But stop trying to tell me what to do. I can control myself but not if you provoke me.”

You gulp, nodding dizzily and lying back. You don’t want to provoke him — not now, anyway. There are other, less dangerous times to piss Yunho off than when he’s about to brand you. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lower stomach; it tickles, and you can’t help the giggle that slips out. “Cute,” he says. “I’m gonna get this all the way in now, baby. Hold my hand.”

You hear your heart pounding as he grabs your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. He gives it a comforting, immobilising squeeze before he finally pushes himself in fully. Having already been halfway in, you’d gotten used to the pain, but you can’t help the scream that comes out. Yunho is unreal. Without even moving he’s pressed up hard against your cervix, pushing the limits of what you can take, how far your walls can stretch before breaking. You know it’s close; a wrong or sloppy movement on either of your parts could seriously cut or damage you, and the adrenaline is dizzying. And yet like this — in Yunho’s hold, holding his hand, under his care — you’ve never felt so safe. So secure. So destined.

You’ve known you were an omega since you knew what an omega was — you’d presented as a baby, and spent every moment since then being told and reminded of what you are, what you were bound to be. But you admit there’s been times, moments where you’ve wondered; wondered if this is all you were meant for, wondered if you really had a mate out there — if you even wanted one.

Now though, as Yunho slowly starts to move, stretching and pushing you to the limit yet at the same time producing feelings and sensations you didn’t know were possible; as he moves in and out of you perfectly at ease, as if you were made and moulded for him, the doubt is gone. It’s real. It’s true. You’re the perfect omega, his omega, and you were made for Yunho as much as he was made for you.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, pained by the stretch as much as pleasured. Yunho, now speeding up to almost a rut, coos at you, kissing your tears as they slide down your cheeks. “Good girl,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well. No one’s ever taken me like this.”

You groan, mouth wide open and he roughly presses his lips to yours, effectively silencing you; now each sound you make goes directly into him, each scream released against his lips, into his mouth. You can’t think of any way you could possibly be closer to him. Except…

“It’s almost time,” he grunts. By now his thrusts are hard and relentless, lifting your body from the bed and slamming it back down with ruthless proficiency. You’re on a high; impossibly stretched and unbelievably pleasured, and so is he. He lifts himself up, detaching his mouth from yours and you watch his eyes fix on your bare shoulder. Fear trickles into you, diluted by the mountain of emotions and sensations surrounding it. He’s going to do it now. He’s going to mark you and you’re going to be his. Forever.

“Tell me I can brand you, omega,” he says. “Tell me I can or I won’t be able to do it.”

“You can brand me,” you gasp. “Please, alpha. Make me yours. Mark me.”

He opens his mouth and you see his sharp canines more prominent than ever. He moves to take each of your hands in his, holding you down before he dives in, sinking his teeth into your supple, delicate flesh.

The pain is… unexpected. It hurts, undeniably so, but not in the way you’d expected. It doesn’t feel like you’re being bitten, not exactly; it’s a dull yet piercing pain that perforates and warms you at the same time. It’s not pleasurable or pleasant in any way; it’s just natural. Safe. It almost feels like home.

You close your eyes, riding it out; Yunho keeps fucking you through it, which certainly makes it easier, even as his grip on your delicate wrist turns almost bruising. You’re not sure how long he’s biting you for, how long you stay like this; seconds or minutes baby, but you know better than to interrupt him. This is a delicate, ancient process that he knows more about than you do. You just have to take it.

He comes up eventually, eyes wild with desire and blood coating his lips — your blood. You know he’s close to wolf now; he’s only refraining from transforming because he’s still inside you, still fucking you and mating you for the first time. He keeps going, strangled, feral sounds accompanying every rough movement until he comes with a yell, unloading in you, but you’re so dizzy from the bite, from the feeling of blood trickling down your shoulder, that you barely notice until he pulls out, gathering you into his arms. He runs a finger across the mark in your shoulder, inspecting the wound. It’s already healing slightly. The scar will be beautiful.

“My baby,” he mutters. “My mate. Thank you.”

“Yunho,” you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, throat scratchy and painful from the screams and cries you’d let out as he fuck you and he notices, shushing you softly.

“Don’t try to talk yet,” he says, chuckling slightly. “I have a loud one, don’t I?”

You flush, bowing your head. “Sorry.”

“Baby, no,” he laughs. “It’s a good thing. The best, actually. Makes me feel good.”

It’s silent for a moment; a warm and comfortable silence, before you speak. “I didn’t think we’d be bonded,” you admit. “I thought you hated me.”

He hums, thinking for a moment. His hand runs up and down your back in soothing motions as he holds you. “I thought so too,” he says. “But I can see now that I… could never have hated you. Soul ties are just misunderstood. They’re so rare that not much is known about them and they’re not taught, so I… I felt that powerful feeling for you and mistook it for hate.”

“So it wasn’t hate,” you say.

“Of course it wasn’t,” he chuckles. “You’re my omega. Not just because the pack leader said so or anything, but because the Gods said so. That’s everything. And as much as I might want to set you straight a bit—” he pauses, tapping a finger against your cheek lightly, “—and believe me, I will set you straight. The feeling I felt wasn’t love. It was need.”

You nod, humming in content. Your eyes close for a second, heavy with exhaustion from your exertions before they open again. “Shouldn’t I go back to my room now?”

He hesitates, thinking. He’d been the one to insist on that rule earlier, but now… “According to the rules you should,” he says. He pauses, pondering for a moment and sighs, shaking his head like he can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “But I want you to stay. Will you stay?”

You smile, nuzzling into his chest happily. He runs a hand through your hair, damp with sweat. You hear the steady beat of his heart and feel the rise and fall of his chest, lifting you up and setting you down with each breath.

“Yes, Yunho,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

—————

thank you for reading! again, this isn’t proof read so please forgive errors. i’ve also never written werewolf/omegaverse fics so forgive me if there’s inaccuracies. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed. requests are OPEN. love🖤🖤🖤

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #kpop smut #yunho x reader #ateez au #mulloey writes

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stxrmxtsu · 1 year ago

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How would the brothers feel about femdom?

gooooddd question anon

let’s find out shall we?

(NSFW under the cut)

osomatsu is kinda meh when it comes to a dominant partner. what i mean by that is that he just wants someone around him and he doesn’t care what the hell he gets lmfao. he’s nearly reaching his thirties, he’ll take what he can get.

with that being said, he’s R E A D Y for you.

when you guys start a scene, he’ll do those moans that you hear in porn (you know the overly exaggerated ones) because he thinks it’s something you’ll like to hear, but you kinda just roll your eyes and go harder.

and that’s where you’ll get him to actually make noise for you.

and my god is it the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard come from a man’s mouth.

i think he prefers you taking him via riding however.

i mean getting ass fucked is great and all but the feeling of your walls tightening around him while you’re on top of him? and then the overstimulation after he’s been milked 2 times but you’re still fucking the lights out of him?

my boy’s addicted to that.

karamatsu likes to pretend he’s some dominant alpha male who takes no shit from anyone but we all know that he’s just a bottom ready to be taken at any given moment.

when you came into his life, he thought he could fool you

but by heaven’s grace was he wrong.

the way he portrayed himself at first was something you chuckle at when you remember it.

he kept lowering his voice around you, touching you, telling you that you were all his….

oh how the tables turned when you looked at him with the most dangerous eyes and smiled all pretty to cover up the glint in your eyes.

“yeah? i’m all yours, karamatsu?”

the way your voice dipped was something that stained his brain forever.

and then you chuckled darkly as you pulled him in by the collar, leaning in close to his ear.

“that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart…..”

let’s just say he ended up really sore the next morning and didn’t look anyone in the eye except yours.

oh please, its choromatsu’s dream! while yes, he’s supposed to be a manly man and a straight one at that….

my boy needs the stress taken off of him.

look, all i’m saying is….

fuck this boy till he cries 🤷‍♀️

he’ll beg, he’ll whimper, he’ll absolutely sob out of desperation for you.

i’m not saying he’d prefer a dominant partner but….he’s not entirely opposed to it

while most of us sees ichimatsu as some dom that does obedience training, i honestly see him as a switch that leans towards sub a little more. but truly, i just think he doesn’t really care what kind of partner you are.

you want it rough? sure.

you want to fuck his ass? go for it.

ichimatsu’s all for it.

on the other hand, i think he’s drawn to dominant women tbh, idk there’s just something so alluring about them that makes his dick hard.

he’s a sadomasochist. (and y’all know how he sounded when he had a fucking flag pole get jabbed into his ass)

jyushimatsu is the most obedient boy you’ll ever meet. the minute you said “i’m gonna take care of you from here on out”, he was all in. he does everything you ask him to.

sometimes he has a touch of disobedience but that’s just to somewhat get of a rise out of you.

but mostly it’s him being your good little puppy.

todomatsu.

need i remind you of my pegging hcs?

no but seriously.

i genuinely think that todomatsu is a bit iffy on having a completely dominant partner. i mean don’t get him wrong, it’s great because he gets mind blowing sex just by talking back at you.

but sometimes it makes him like…feel somewhat ashamed of not being able to ‘be a man’ and all that.

i’m not saying he has toxic masculinity or anything but it’s more so on my personal headcanon of him being like “i’m kinda tired of being seen as someone who can’t fight back”, you know what i mean?

but i think he can adjust to his dominant girlfriend…

besides….

who said you were done pleasing me, [name]?

and that’s that my loves!

hope you enjoyed it, sorry about the vaguness but i really could not think of anything better than this. i still hoped you enjoyed me genuinely answering your question tho!

love you and see you in the next one,

jarvis <3

#osomatsu san #mr osomatsu x reader #osomatsu san imagine #osomatsu san headcanons #osomatsu #karamatsu #choromatsu #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #osomatsu smut #mr. osomatsu #mr. osomatsu smut #osomatsu san x reader #osomatsu san smut #jarvis.fics

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infiniteeight8 · 2 months ago

Note

Can you do a smut fic where soft dom Peter comes home after a long day of work and sub Stiles wants to help him relax?

Behind the cut for obvious reasons. :D

Peter closes the apartment door behind himself and resists the urge to lean back against it. Laying the groundwork for pack alliances has always been a long, painstaking, exhausting process, but Scott makes it far more difficult than Talia ever had. His unwillingness to compromise alone requires every skill Peter has to work around.

Dropping his keys in the dish by the door, Peter starts to take off his jacket before being preempted by firm, familiar hands already sliding it off his shoulders. “Let me take care of that, Alpha,” Stiles murmurs.

Peter isn't actually an alpha, but he responds far more strongly and positively to ‘alpha’ than he does to ‘sir’ or ‘master.’ He and Stiles had decided that even if he wasn’t an alpha, he could still be Stiles’ alpha. “What a good pet,” Peter says, letting Stiles hang up the jacket and kneel down to remove Peter’s shoes.

Stiles’s scent takes on a hint of warmth, just from that. Peter smiles and runs a hand idly through Stiles’s hair as he works on Peter’s shoes. Stiles is so responsive, it makes being his dom a joy.

Shoes dealt with, Stiles leads Peter to the couch. Peter sits and spreads his knees and Stiles obligingly kneels between them. He rests his head against Peter’s leg and waits. Peter does usually need a moment to let go of the day, but more than that, stillness and quiet are things that Stiles finds difficult to offer… which makes them a beautiful expression of his submission.

Peter doesn’t make him wait long, though. Not today. After just a couple of minutes, he unbuttons his pants and draws down the zipper, then leans back and leaves the rest for Stiles.

Stiles knows his cues; he moves eagerly, drawing Peter’s cock out of his pants and taking it in his mouth. Left to his own devices, Stiles is inclined to effectively dive onto Peter’s dick. He likes to deep throat, likes the work it takes and likes how good at it he is. But today he starts slowly, sucking on the head and licking messily down the shaft. “Good boy,” Peter murmurs, brushing a hand lightly through Stiles’s hair. A slow start is what Peter likes, especially on days like today.

Stiles doesn’t stop sucking, but the pleasure in his scent deepens at the praise. Steadying himself with a hand on Peter’s thigh, he reaches up to stroke his balls, head bobbing a little deeper. Not rushing, just letting things build. Peter closes his eyes and leans his head back, one hand resting on Stiles’s head as he works Peter’s cock. He’s home, and his boy is servicing his cock quite beautifully, and slowly the strains of the day start to fall away.

As the tension bleeds out of Peter, Stiles goes deeper, his throat opening up for the length of Peter’s cock. He really is spectacular at sucking cock, Peter thinks hazily. The tight heat of Stiles’s throat is incomparable, his rhythm perfect as he bobs over Peter’s lap. Peter lets himself float on the swell of pleasure that’s building. He doesn’t warn Stiles when he comes, but his pet reacts in time anyway, pulling back and catching the spurt of come on his tongue instead of taking it in his throat. Peter lets out a deep, satisfied breath and pets Stiles’s head even as Stiles sucks the last drops of come out of him. His boy knows exactly what he needs.

#Steter #ficlet

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dirtyalpha-rat · 8 months ago

Text

RAT (THEY/THEM)

24 years old, Capricorn, neurodivergent

Verse and switch in theory.. stone top in practice. Preference for doming— rediscovering my sub side!

Most of the posts I reblog, I’m day dreaming of being the dom &/or top. If that’s not the case, it’s normally marked 𓆏

Loving Mate and owner to my very bratty dog ( @omegapuppyslxt ) and proud protector of my obedient little bunny!

Non-binary, trans masc, Butch. Mostly t4t, poly, Violently pansexual.

DNI: MINORS! And no rape threats.

Please for the love of gods be LGBTQIA. If you’re not that’s cool but I am queer and this blog is about queer sex. I post about all genders, so feel free to come vibe.

Mutuals, Followers, and blog visitors are always welcome to stop by asks and say Hi! Looking to make kink friends, happy to flirt. Not looking for new partners, or serious play.

DM’s open for mutuals and approved asks only! Mutuals.. come get a lil kiss!

more info under the cut for the curious.

You may call me…

Rat, Sol, Sir, Alpha or Mutt if you’re looking for some trouble.

Open to others, just please refrain from using terms that lay claim (mine, my, etc.)

Terms I enjoy being described with: Cock, hole, (t)dick, cunt, chest. Strap!

Terms I’m not comfortable being described with: Tits, breast (we love that chest dysphoria!)

Things I adore…

(incomplete always expanding)

- Impact play (hitting, spanking, punching, slapping)

- Biting, marking, bruising, hickies!!

- Primal play, Chase, rough housing

- pet play!

- Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, knotting

- Roleplay (knight, goddess, cowboy, horror older then time, etc. I hold multitudes)

- complete power exchange, devotion, 24/7 dynamics

- Leather

- Humiliation, Degration, Praise, Embarrassment

- Bondage, rope work

- Corruption, soft somo, soft cnc, Intox (weed)

- Punishment, Rules, Chasity

- Care, pleasure, and leaving a scene feeling good

- And much more

Common headspaces

Sir (He/They)

Strict. Hard on rules, ready to train. Will devour you. Has already thought about how. Happy to get my leather gloves out to hit you, and even happier to have you clipped to my carabiner. Don’t forget to clean my boots down there, while you’re at it.

Alpha (They/Them)

Primal, Alpha/Beta/Omega-verse, smells like rain, woodsmoke, deep vanilla, and weed (probably). Soft dom. I am currently nesting with my Omega, Kander.

Knight (They/He)

A bounce between devoted, selfless knight who lives to protect their prince no matter the cost, and knight who will happily help a royal to mind their manners. I devote my love, and my life to my prince. I am loyal not to the crown, but to him. Always him.

Sol (They/Them)

Soft dom, or service top. Not mutually exclusive. Lay on my chest and let me pet your hair. Let me press against you, let me feel every inch of you. Realize you are safe in hands that know and love you, and that if you ask nicely enough you’ll get exactly what you want. You can bully me, perhaps put up a fight— maybe I’ll fold or maybe I’ll remind you why you love being mine.

I’m a writer, and I love role play so there’s probably about 5000 others. Inquire for more if you’re interested!

Boundaries

- No DDLG/Age play, No scat, No hard cnc or rape fantasies in my asks and dm’s. We all have lines and we all have trauma. It’s fine for you, it is not welcome here.

- I will block ageless blogs. I’m being so fr ya’ll keep poking and I’m not playing!

- I love to be violent! Please do not be violent with me out of nowhere (get my consent first.)

- Do not force feminize me! I present masculine in my daily life and I’m still figuring out my relationship with my femininity. Don’t complicate it.

- MAPS, Pedos, terfs, antisemitics, actual real life fr misogynists, racists, minors, DNI!

If you made it this far I applaud you. Send me an ask and I will reward your thoroughness!

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lovecinnatwist · 3 years ago

Note

frosssttr titans au where omega dick is giving private lessons to alpha jason qusjdjsjs

What? Hardcore smut with Dom!Dick? Let's go

A Firm Hand

Tags: Omegaverse, Dom/Sub undertones, Breeding kink, Orgasm Denial, Cock Rings, Multiple Orgasm, Over Stimulation, Creampie, Knotting, Cum Inflation, Messy Sex

Bruce has always been soft.

Heart tender and open for all that came broken and battered. None more so than Jason Peter Todd.

The alpha practically bleeds for love, wounds of betrayal open and green with infection. When he comes to the Titan’s Dick see’s it. How could he not when the kid has yet to have a firm hand guide him to his proper place?

The role of an Alpha is always under his omegas.

Jason’s cock is stiff and hard.

The girthy meat throbs in his cunt, bare and raw. The sheer look of pure unadulterated awe in his expression makes Dick feel powerful. Then again he must be to have the kid flat on his back and helpless to him. He clenches down, the growing knot teasing his slick folds.

It’s good.

Broad in a way that there’s a touch of a burn. It’s been a long time since he’s had an alpha. There’s none on his team and barely any time to seek one out. Not that he would have to worry about that anymore. With a tickling touch, he pushes Jason’s sweaty bangs out of his face. All while the kid seemingly holds his breath.

It’s admirable really the way he holds himself back for Dick’s pleasure. A good alpha that would need very little instruction- but still a firm hand. That’s ok, Dick has the time and he certainly doesn’t mind doing a little housebreaking.

Sweat drips down his back. They’ve been at this for hours and it has yet to become less spectacular. The other occupants in the tower know better than to disturb private lessons. He'll have the alpha to himself all evening.

“ What is an alpha for Little wing? “

Jason’s teeth grind from how hard he’s clenching. The knuckles on those strong hands white against the sheets. The cock ring is doing a beautiful job. It keeps the alpha hard and ready, while on the precipice of orgasm. Close but not yet. Not until Dick has his fill.

The answer that gets drawn out sounds like it hurts.

“ A-An omega’s pleasure. “

The confession is sweet to the ears. Dick’s cunt oozes slick, soothing the burn and inching the cock inside closer to his cervix. It’s an easy movement. The gentle circling of thick omega hips makes that throbbing cock press somewhere wonderful.

Now that he has this he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let it go.

“ Who is your omega? “

Jason doesn’t speak. Dick narrows his eyes, patient fingers turn demanding as they pull on soft brown curls. The alpha yelps away from the touch but the way his dick hardens gives away his arousal.

“ Who Jason- “

Jason’s eyes flit about. It’s clear that he isn’t sure what the right answer is. Bruce in fact is technically the pack omega. Despite the obvious flaws and mistakes made over the years. It’s only natural that Jason would think of his pseudo dame first. At least before.

Not now that Dick is teaching him the proper way an alpha behaves, fucks and submits.

“ You bro- you. “

The purr comes out effortlessly. The pleasure that radiates from that perfectly polite answer makes Dick hungry. Such a good alpha. When their lips meet for a kiss, seafoam green eyes widen. There’s nothing cuter than how gone Jason is for him. Every movement screams disbelief and desire. All while the smoky musk of safe-good-behaving alpha perfumes the air.

Fuck he’s such a good boy. Dick is glad that he’s the first to have his knot. Bruce may play as dame and parent but Dick wouldn’t do the same. As a single, healthy omega he would take and have.

Jason had made it so easy to. The casual, flirty, confident little offers. Typical for a young alpha, hormones and arousal making them blind to the actual hierarchy. He actually thought he would be the one to dominate, set the pace and take.

Silly little standards set by the porn industry. Fairytales that alpha pups clung to in excitement. All in the past now though.

Consent freely given will never be taken back in the presence of true pleasure.

Dick picks up his movements. It makes Jason wheeze like he’s been hit in the gut. A gorgeous sound that joins a litany of breathless, frantic moans. Dick’s own voice becomes loud and free as he indulges. The alpha’s cock is just the right size and shape to rub somewhere magnificent. The more he moves the closer he gets to orgasm.

Even without prompting, the alpha knows what to do.

“ Please- Please omega- use me. Want to feel you cum. Want to be useful- want to be good- “

Jason is good. So so good and perfect. Dick’s eyes nearly roll back from the way those cut muscular hips struggle up to drive him deeper. Movements of a natural breeder really. There will be no trouble the day Dick gives up hardness for softness. The day he has his little alpha fill him up.

Not that they can’t practice until then.

“ You are- So good for me Jason. Such a good alpha. Doing so good- “

The broken keen is distinctively omega. It drives the alpha wild, nearly feral. All while gnashing teeth each movement becomes violent and desperate. Such is the way of a good alpha. Using all their strength to bring their omega to orgasm.

It’s like riding a bull. Dick can’t help a giggling scream as Jason fucks him good and hard, nearly knocking him off in his haste. His body quakes, thundering righteous sounds of pleasure raining free.

He’s going to cum for the fifth time tonight and this time- his good sweet little wing is going to fill him up. The first cream pie the alpha will ever give. Dick will also be the only omega to have the pleasure going forward.

The thought makes him manic.

The second the cock ring comes off Jason's snarl cuts out for a beaten up whimper. Stuttering and sweet as those hazy green eyes turn alert.

" No- no nonononono omega I'll cum- "

Hands frantically scramble as Jason tries to stave off orgasm. Huge knot expanding and inflating at an alarming rate. The first time is always so wondrous the pleasure must be borderline painful. Dick's own pleasure intensifies. He won't let his eyes leave Jason's. The rapture- the pleasure- the unyielding devotion.

It gives a Dick a high.

After this Jason would never be able to be anything but his.

" Omega! Omega please- "

Gut-wrenching little whines fill the space. He begs prettily as he hopelessly attempts to hold himself back. Dick is going to cum. The rising of orgasm hits in relentless waves. Ever going higher and higher as pleasure rips through him.

Helpless blue-green eyes go wide in panic. Looking at Dick like he's a God. Like he is the answer to life's questions. His mercy, his saviour, his light, his world.

Just as an alpha should.

Dick slams down on his knot hard enough to bruise. Jason's mouth opens in a scream but no sound comes out. That's ok though, Dick is loud enough for both of them.

The orgasm is everything it should be

Especially when it's taken at the use of a well-behaving alpha. Jason is crying gorgeous tears. Biting his lip until it bleeds. Hands tearing holes in the sheets of the bed

All while he watches Dick come- muscles straining as he denies himself. Dick's powerful cunt clenching and clamping down on the alpha.

Dick sees the exact moment he breaks.

He grins shakily as his entire body vibrates with the best orgasm of his life.

" cum puppy- cum for omega-"

Jason's release pants his insides with enough force that Dick jerks. It's violent and ruthless. Hot spunk causing the knot to rapidly shrink and expand. It's an odd feeling. His pussy opening and closing as enough cum to breed at least six omegas makes its way inside.

Jason's hand flies to his hip when he tries to get away from it. The foreign feeling is overstimulating. The puncture of alpha claws in his iliac crest is more arousing than painful.

Alpha instincts that prevent an omega from running away from being bred. Dick's eyes flutter as another creamy load makes its way through his walls, through his petite cervix opening to stuff him up in a way that should be painful.

At least if it didn't drag out his own release into something life changing.

The choking sounds Jason makes are so precious. Just as the way he clings and snaps to not bury his fangs into Dick's neck. Not that he would chastise the perfect little alpha for it. As Dick's abdomen starts to swell he realizes that he'll never let Bruce ever touch a hair on his alpha's head again.

" mine "

It's dark and final.

" yo..urs-"

Dick tilts the worn out alpha's head. Muscles and body jumping like it's been electrocuted. The sweet little thing goes with the touch accepting what is to come.

An alpha's claim might be the most common but an omega could do the same if they were possessive enough.

It just took more tries.

Jason jumps as his teeth sink into the delicate expanse neck. High enough to be obvious, dark enough to be clear. Dick's eyes blur as the taste of Jason coats his tongue. Thick and rich like expensive honey wine.

He growls when the alpha tries to move. It makes him still but for good measure Dick pulls him up to shake. It makes his teeth go deeper. It would be impossible not to notice how his good little alpha gets hard again at the action. More cum filling him until it's nearly unbearable.

They would need to do this several more times but that's ok. He doesn't think Jason will have any protest to offer.

When he finally can bring himself to release the eerily silent alpha Dick marvels at his own handy work. Fucked out and pretty. Dick cooes the alpha's full green eyes drag to his.

" G-od Da…mn"

The words come out at a wheeze. The alpha's throat reedy from the bite. Also from the growling and screaming but Dick doesnt want to train that out of him. He likes those sounds just fine.

" blew your mind pup? "

The sparkle comes to life slowly. Like the sun peeking through the clouds and gently lighting up the shimmery surface of a sleepy lake. That's the best part of Jason. Submissive and sweet but too resilient to break. He plays his fingers between sweaty brown curls. The alpha chuckles dry and broken.

" If I g't up, th'nk ma br'ans'll be on ta p'llow. "

Dick chuckles. He kisses the alpha deep and claiming. Blood plays on their lips which does wonders at arousing his younger partner. The alpha's cock is the only thing still up to play at the moment.

The alpha groans at the realization.

" why'mm st'll hard!?"

Dick purrs. He clenches down, pussy too full to do anything else but make a mess of both of them. The feeling of thick alpha cum sliding down his thighs is addicting. Greedy fingers reach down for a taste.

Jason's breath hitches the moment Dick stuffs messy white fingers in his mouth. Perhaps in his eagerness he forgot something pertinent. Like how awful Jason's eating habits have been since joining the Titans.

He winces, bitter and salty.

" No more burgers and junk food Jay. "

The alpha's argument dies the moment Dick moves his hips. The wet lewd sound of their coupling is quickly becoming his favourite thing.

" an alpha's seed is for their omega Jay. It needs to be palatable and fertile. For when you give me pups- and when I want to use that big cock of yours to distract my mouth. "

The alpha's eyes dilate, blown and feral at the statement. Dick thinks he looks devastatingly handsome.

" B-bro-"

A stern hand twists in brown locks.

" Omega! " he yelps to correct. Dick grins.

Well Rome wasn't built in a day.

#omegaverse #ficlet #prompt #omega!dick #alpha!jason #titans verse #just Dick domming his cut little alpha #nothing else #ficlets

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pervysenpaix · 3 years ago

Note

what kinks do you think the mha boys are into??

WARNING ⚠️ MINORS DNI

Katsuki isn’t that kinky is my mind. He’d be into degradation, impact play, marking and breeding. DEFINITELY breeding.

Eijiro likes to bite. That shouldn’t be surprising look at those teeth 🥴. So marking , maybe blood ? His favorite color is red after all 🌚, I can definitely see him being into primal play ; call him Alpha and you’re done, exhibitionism because he wants everyone to see how manly he is and he definitely has a praise link. Please tell him he’s the best boy 🥺

Niggadoriya is a nasty bastard. Why is he finger always in your booty ? 🤨 He’s a definite soft dom, “Are you okay, puppy? Is it feeling good ?” He just wants to make sure you’re okay. I think he’d be into cucking, he admires Kacchan so much so what better way to impress him than letting him get a taste of you ? “You’re being so good for Kacchan, puppy. Such a good girl.”

Papi Sero is a daddy and he loves his little girl. He will spoil the fuck out of you but he won’t hesitate to punish you if you fuck up. “Have you learned your lesson , mi amor ?” He’d ask , as if you weren’t gagged and suspended from the ceiling. Bondage, and sensory deprivation are his things.

Denks is a sadomasochistic son of a bitch. He likes for you to hurt eachother. Definite quirk play because you pissed on yourself one time he was fingering you with his quirk and he fucking loved it. He’s the king of dirty talk. He will degrade the fuck out of you. “Dumb fucking slut. Can’t even think with my dick so deep in this slutty pussy” he’d laugh as he rails you from behind.

Shinsou is a sadist but he’s more controlled. He’d edge you to the brink of insanity and then leave you waiting for hours while he goes on his shift. “Aww, are you crying baby ? Did you want to cum that bad ?” He’d be into breeding, marking and he has so many toys. Would stick a remote controlled vibrator in your cunt whenever you went out in public.

Shotundre Todojackson is into that whole mommy/daddy thing. The boy has some issues. He loves your tits so lactation for sure. Somnophillia because you looked so pretty when you’re sleeping and your mouth is parted just enough for his cock to slip in.

Shiggy likes to see you cry. Give him all your tears and he’ll give you all his dick. Please praise him. Tell him how good he’s fucking you. Body worship for sure because he loves how smooth and beautiful your skin is.

Dabi likes to cut. He will carve “Touya’s” right above your cunt and lick the blood away. Fucking sick if you ask me. I’d never be into that 🤥

Nasty Girls | @xogabbiexo , @plussizeficchick , @namjoonswifeyy , @po3ticb3auty , @tenyaiidasslut

#mha smut #ask unique😈

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junghelioseok · 5 years ago

Text

covenant.

↳ your best friend’s engagement forces you to reevaluate your own feelings.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | angst | werewolf!au | f2l!au ◇ 16.4k [1/1]

⇢ arguably also an arranged marriage!au, ft. kinda sorta dumbasses to lovers? a very, very late bday fic for the most beautiful man in the universe and my favorite funky lil dancer. ♡

notes: i started this in my drafts well over three months ago and all it said was “this ain’t gonna be on time for hobi’s bday i can feel it” and damn if past!me wasn’t right on the money!!! this has undergone three edits, going from 14.6k to 16.4k somehow, and i am going to lose my whole damn mind if i don’t just post it so here it is! hope you enjoy!

warnings: dom!hobi, alpha!hobi, bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), some grinding against hobi’s thigh, knotting, hobi’s got a big dick idk, also he’s in heat!!! but things eventually get really soft bc i love him and am a Soft Bitch™ 🤷🏻‍♀️

It’s going to rain.

You can smell it in the air and feel the damp chill against your skin, permeating through every layer of your clothing. The surrounding forest and all its occupants seem to be collectively holding their breath, waiting for the first drops to come. Even your footsteps, soft as they are against the loamy earth, sound much too loud in the hush that’s fallen. Dark clouds gather overhead, looming like an omen, and you silently reach into your purse to check that the umbrella you’d stowed this morning is still there. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s big enough for two.

Around you, the trees slowly begin to dwindle, until there’s only open sky above your head and a wide grassy expanse beneath your feet. A certain heaviness lingers in the air here—a low thrum of energy, born from the ancient magic that sleeps in the gnarled roots of the tree that sits in the center of the clearing. You can feel it prickling along your skin, raising gooseflesh and igniting your veins, and the closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes.

At the far end of the clearing, you spot a small crowd of people, all clad in black. Your best friend—and your entire reason for venturing out today—stands amongst them in a tailored suit, his black tie snug at his throat and laid atop a charcoal gray shirt. He’s chatting with his father and a few other family members, seemingly calm and collected, but you can tell from the sloppy knot of his tie and the way he fidgets with the hem of his jacket that he is anything but. After all your years of friendship, you can read Jung Hoseok like a book. His auburn hair is disheveled as if he’s been incessantly raking his fingers through it, and even at a distance, you can sense the turmoil in his aura, haloing him like the stormy clouds overhead.

Sensing your approach, Hoseok’s gaze flickers up to meet yours. He raises a hand in greeting and bids farewell to the people he’d been chatting with, picking his way over to you with a wan smile.

“Hey. You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” you reply, reaching out to take his hand. It’s warm and strong as always, but you don’t miss the slight tremor in his grip. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, a sigh escaping his lips and dissipating into mist in the wintry air. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It just… it all happened so fast.”

“I know,” you murmur, twining your fingers together in quiet reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Hobi.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly, his gaze flits to the center of the clearing where the ancient tree sits, traversing from the leafy canopy all the way down to where the gnarled roots disappear into the dirt. In its shadow sits a polished wooden casket, and you squeeze Hoseok’s hand gently as he walks closer, his eyes beginning to glisten.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know,” he mumbles. “All these years of war, of negotiations and peace talks, finally seeing the Accords pass and the company flourish… and now he’s gone. Cancer. Just like that.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence, and you clasp his hand a little tighter. You know as well as he does that a healthy werewolf can live for well over a century, if not for the human genetics that remain susceptible to human weaknesses and disease. True immortality afflicts only the faeries and the vampires of your world—and even then, there are still ways that those folk can die.

“He lived a long life,” you say after a moment’s hesitation, grasping onto any semblance of comfort you can offer. Together, you and Hoseok come to a stop in the shadow of the tree, peering at the closed casket where his grandfather lays. “And it was a good, just life. Not all of us can say that.”

A lone, wet droplet falls onto the polished mahogany, and Hoseok hastily wipes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. “Not long enough,” he whispers. “He still had so much to do. I… I still have so much I wanted to do—to say. And now I’ll never be able to.”

You caress a thumb across his knuckles, the motion soft and tender. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

Hoseok glances down at that, a glimmer of something manic and desperate swimming in his amber-flecked irises. “You could,” he says, grabbing both your hands and clutching them to his chest like a lifeline. “You could bring him back. You know how, don’t you?”

You shake your head sadly, hating the way his frown deepens as you free yourself from his grasp. “That’s forbidden magic, Hobi. That’s necromancy. You know I can’t do that.”

Hoseok’s entire body sags, his shoulders slumping as he lets out a heavy sigh. Instinctively, you step forward to wrap him in a hug, and he loops his arms around your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him. “I know,” he mumbles into your hair. Then he huffs out a dry chuckle, humorless and deprecating. “Fuck. I’m a mess, huh?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Instead, you hold him a little tighter, rubbing his back soothingly in long, slow motions—the same way his mother used to do during bedtime. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, fast and frenzied like a caged bird, but lulls as you continue your ministrations, settling into an even rhythm once more.

“Thank you,” he murmurs after a few moments, his warm breath caressing your cheek. “For coming today. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You can do anything, Hobi,” you reassure, running a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw when he raises his head to look at you. “With or without me. But… you’re welcome, all the same.”

Your presence at this funeral is unusual, and both you and Hoseok know it. Werewolf packs tend to keep their rites and ceremonies private, and the Gwangju pack is no different. Led by Hoseok’s father, and his late grandfather before him, the werewolves of the city have rapidly risen to prominence and power, aided in large part by the founding of JungTech. The company, started by Hoseok’s grandfather, began as a small operation in a battered old warehouse, but quickly grew to become one of Gwangju’s biggest corporations after the signing of the Accords twenty years ago. The peace treaty marked the start of a tenuous coexistence between humankind and Shadowfolk, and, together with your fellow witches—along with the werewolves, vampires, and the few fair folk who decided to leave their homes deep in the forests—you migrated into cities all over the country to forge new lives.

It’s proven easier for some. While the wolves of the city have found tolerance—acceptance, even—you have not fared quite as well. Humans, you have found, tend to fear the ancient magic that runs through your veins. Though nothing you’ve faced comes remotely close to what your ancestors faced in centuries past, you remain wary of those who take a little too much interest in your abilities.

You’re a bit paranoid, your familiar, Bast, has remarked on more than one occasion. But it’s justified, so I suppose it’s all right.

As if sensing that your thoughts have turned to him, Bast stirs in the back of your mind. You feel him yawn and stretch lazily before there’s a tug on the soles of your feet, as if the force of gravity has suddenly, inexplicably doubled. Then he’s materializing—morphing out of the spot where your shadow would be if the sun were shining, taking the form of an inky black cat with sharp, golden eyes. Hoseok perks up when Bast loops between his ankles, and immediately squats down to scratch behind his ears, a small smile settling across his face as a low, content purr rumbles up from beneath his fingertips. From elsewhere in the clearing, a single howl rises up into the air, forlorn and wavering.

It’s starting, Bast says in your head. At the same time, Hoseok straightens to his full height, fiddling with the hem of his black jacket and looking over at you tentatively.

“Sounds like they’re getting started,” he says.

You nod. “I should go.”

Hoseok opens his mouth as if to protest—as if to say no, stay—but you know better and cut him off with a single raised finger.

“I’ll go,” you murmur. “This is a private rite, and I don’t want to break centuries of tradition by overstaying my welcome. Go join your pack, Hobi.”

“Will I see you later?”

“Without a doubt.”

Your parting gesture is to reach out and grab his hand, tucking a little drawstring bag into his palm and closing his fingers over it. “Valerian root and chamomile,” you tell him gently, taking in his rumpled collar and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Make some tea tonight. It’ll help.”

Hoseok swallows and nods, his features softening as he gazes down at his hand cupped in your smaller ones. He looks like he wants to say something, but another howl interrupts, disrupting whatever thoughts he may have had. Instead, he nods again, murmuring a soft goodbye before turning on his heel to join the rest of the pack gathering around the raised casket. You turn as well, leaving behind the ancient clearing with Bast trotting by your side.

Up above, the heavens finally open, drenching the dirt path beneath your feet with rain. And behind you, the single howl is joined by dozens more, echoing mournfully up into the weeping sky.

///

You’re in the middle of straightening out a display of dittany when the kettle begins to boil, emitting three short, shrill whistles accompanied by a long stream of whirling steam. When silence falls over the shop once more, you wander over to where the kettle sits—atop a small wooden end table next to an old wardrobe. It’s an old relic that’s been passed down through generations of witches in your family, wrought out of silvery metal and suspended in an iron frame above a single lit candle. The flame is glowing pink, flickering in a nonexistent gust of wind, and you smile. Quietly, you grab two teacups from a nearby shelf.

Not two seconds later, the door of the old wardrobe creaks open, revealing the familiar face of Kim Seokjin behind it. A fellow witch and a good friend of yours, Jin has made a name for himself as a baker, running a café in Seoul that offers all sorts of confections—both with magical properties and without. His hair is dyed a muted dusty rose—a stark contrast to the casual black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing—and you reach out to push a stray lock back from his forehead in lieu of a greeting.

“Your hair’s pink again,” you remark. “I like it.”

Jin grins, his plush lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “Thanks.” Carefully, he steps out of the wardrobe and shuts the door behind him. A beat of silence passes, and you take the opportunity to select a canister of tea leaves. You don’t miss the flicker of solemnity that settles into Jin’s features, though, listening as he clears his throat before voicing the question that is undoubtedly the reason behind his unexpected visit.

“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”

Jin has never been one to mince his words. You suppose you appreciate that about him.

Quietly, you lift the kettle out of its stand and beckon for him to join you at the little wooden table at the front of your shop. It’s tucked neatly into the nook carved out by one of the two bay windows on either side of the front door, flanked by two well-worn, mismatched chairs. Atop it sits a pile of books—everything from ancient remedies to common household spells.

One book in particular always sits open—a detailed list of all the herbs and plants you carry in your shop, along with the various concoctions you’ve created with them. Hellebore, the spine of the book reads, and it’s the same word that graces your storefront in flowing, golden text. An apothecary of sorts, you spend your days dealing out potions and remedies to those in need, both human and Shadowfolk. You do your best to help, for all the times modern medicine has come up short and left someone wanting.

“Honestly? I don’t think he’s been sleeping.” You set the teacups down onto the table and fill them both before handing one over to Jin. “I saw him this morning, at the funeral. He looked exhausted.”

Jin’s brows disappear behind his pink hair. “You went to the funeral?”

“I didn’t stay,” you clarify, taking a sip of your tea. “Just wanted to drop by, say hello, and pay my respects.”

“Werewolves are a private bunch,” Jin remarks. “I’m surprised.”

You shrug. “Hoseok wanted me to be there. So I went.”

“I see.” He doesn’t say anything further, and neither do you, lapsing instead into a comfortable silence that’s broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the clinking of china. Your gaze wanders, drifting over to the front door of your shop, painted a cheerful green and set with a flowery stained glass window that throws kaleidoscopic rainbows across the cream walls and dark wooden floor. Sunlight streams through the wide bay windows, illuminating the interior in warm, hazy gold. On the other side of the room, Bast is curled up, fast asleep on his favorite plush bench beside the glass door that leads to the greenhouse, perfectly haloed by the sun.

“Must be nice being able to fall asleep anywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.

Jin hears you anyway, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” you reply, laughing with him. “Speaking of which, where’s Adam? Did he stay home?”

Jin nods, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the wardrobe. “Yeah, he’s keeping an eye on the café. Told me to say hi to you for him, though.”

You giggle at the thought of Jin’s familiar, a long-haired sheepdog with a stubborn streak the size of the Nile and blatant disdain for following orders—especially those that come from Jin himself. “Keeping watch, or trashing the place?” you tease.

“With my luck, probably both,” Jin admits with a sigh. “I should probably get back there soon. He ate all the egg tarts last time.”

“Bring him with you next time,” you advise. “Bast will keep him entertained.”

He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”

Finishing off the last of his tea, he stands up and taps the rim of his cup, murmuring a soft cleaning spell under his breath. You smile gratefully as he replaces it back onto the shelf with the others, and stand to walk him back over to the wardrobe. Opening up the creaky door, you watch him clamber inside, standing amongst the hanging coats and the single pair of shoes on the bottom shelf.

“See you later,” you murmur. “Give Adam my best.”

Jin nods. “See you.”

He shuts the door, and you watch the flame of the candle once again turn a soft, roseate pink. It flickers briefly, dancing in an invisible breeze, before reverting back to the color of regular fire, signaling Jin’s departure. Quietly, you clean your own teacup and return it to the shelf.

The remainder of the afternoon passes with few customers, so you opt to close down early and head to your apartment, located up a short flight of stairs on the second floor of the shop. You’re rifling through the refrigerator for dinner ingredients and humming softly under your breath when your phone suddenly rings, Hoseok’s name lighting up the screen in bright white text. “Hey, Hobi,” you say, swiping across the glass to answer. “What’s up?”

On the other end of the line, Hoseok exhales shakily. “Can you come over?”

You blink, glancing at the darkening sky outside. “Now?”

“Yeah. Fuck, sorry. I know it’s late, but I really… I really need to talk to someone. I—” His voice cracks, and your heart sinks. “I need you.”

“Say no more.” Straightening up, you shut the refrigerator door and tug off your apron. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Have you eaten yet?”

Hoseok sighs. “No.”

“I’ll bring takeout,” you decide, already glancing around for your purse. “See you soon, okay?”

Bidding him farewell, you don your coat and head out the door, locking up behind you. Hoseok lives downtown in a sleek, modern penthouse that’s normally a twenty-minute walk away from Hellebore, but after stopping by the restaurant on the corner for food, you opt to catch the bus instead. Fifteen minutes after you hang up the phone, you are rapping the bronze knocker on Hoseok’s front door, a paper bag and a bottle of wine in hand.

Almost instantly, the door is flung open. Hoseok stands in the threshold as if he’s been waiting there, his auburn hair wild and his eyes even wilder. His aura is turbulent, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You raise the bag. “I brought dinner.”

“You’re the best,” he sighs, stepping aside to let you in.

Hoseok’s apartment toes the line between modern and cozy in a way that only Hoseok’s apartment could—with lush green plants and plushy, earth-toned furniture to offset the cold impersonality of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stainless steel kitchen. Flicking on the kitchen light, you set the food down on the granite countertop and grab two wine glasses out of the cabinet. Hoseok sidles over as you pour a generous helping into each glass, rifling through the silverware drawer for utensils.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, popping a box open. “I’m starving. Thanks for bringing dinner.”

You brush off his gratitude and hand him a glass, raising yours so you can clink it gently against his. Quietly, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine, with Hoseok grabbing the food and you grabbing the bottle of wine to bring into the living room. You help him clear off the coffee table and arrange the food, then settle onto the couch beside him, sipping your drink in silence and patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Years of friendship have taught you that he’ll talk when he’s ready, and you’re content to wait as long as he needs.

Sighing, Hoseok tips the rest of his wine back into his mouth before setting the empty glass down with a soft plink. “So,” he begins, not quite looking you in the eye. “My dad and I had lunch today.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. He takes several more seconds to muster up the words, and when he finally finds them, they’re exhaled in a tumbling rush. “He told me that he’s pleased with how I’m running JungTech. It’s been over a year, and things are going well… so he wants to expedite my takeover of the pack. In two months, he wants me to take over as the alpha. And…” He swallows. “He wants me to settle down.”

Perturbed, you blink. “What?”

Hoseok finally looks at you, his expression frighteningly devoid of emotion. “He wants me to get married, {Name}.”

Comprehension doesn’t settle in right away. But when it does, your jaw drops to the floor, landing somewhere alongside the ornamental persian carpet and a stray sock that has no doubt jumped ship from Hoseok’s laundry.

“W-what?” you manage after a few long seconds of gaping at him. “Why? Why now? That’s so… that’s completely out of the blue.”

Hoseok shakes his head, a few shaggy strands of auburn hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “It’s not, actually. He’s been talking about it for a long time—trying to arrange something with one of the other pack families. It’s tradition, you know? Mating within the pack, keeping the bloodlines pure through marriage. The difference is that Pops always talked him out of it. Always said I was too young, that there was no rush, that I should wait for someone I love, my true mate...” He sighs, heavily. “But he’s gone now. And Dad’s decided that he’s done waiting.”

You shouldn’t ask. You shouldn’t, because you know it’ll hurt, but the question comes regardless—leaving your lips in a near whisper. “Who?”

Hoseok takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhales. “Do you remember Im Nayeon?”

You do. You’ve known Nayeon almost as long as you’ve known Hoseok—the three of you having attended the same schools starting from elementary all the way up until Hoseok left to attend university in Seoul. Admittedly, you were never close—and if you were completely honest, you always found her to be a bit disingenuous for your tastes. Nevertheless, you often found yourself at the same events—parties and gatherings you attended at Hoseok’s request, and that she was privy to due to her family’s high-ranking status within the Gwangju pack.

“I remember,” you tell him, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. “Does… does she know yet? Have you met up with her?”

Hoseok nods. “She was there this morning, at the funeral. We talked a little bit and got coffee after, but… this is all happening so fast.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his parted lips. “But there’s nothing I can do, right? It’s enough that Dad’s somehow talked Mom into the whole thing, but now he’s gotten the Council on board too. Did you know that Nayeon has an uncle on the Council? It’s insane, right?”

“Insane,” you agree in a whisper, doing your best to ignore the way your heart is splintering at the edges.

“You know, I always thought my Dad pressuring me was bad.” Hoseok buries his face in his hands, peering at you from between his splayed fingers when you hum in acknowledgment. “But this? The entire Council on my back? This is way worse.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else there is to say. Your ribcage feels like it’s been split open and filled with burning coals, weighing hot and heavy on your insides.

Hoseok has dated in the past, of course. You both have—chasing that elusive, fluttery feeling called love and never quite being able to catch it and hold on. Hoseok’s last relationship fizzled long before he graduated from university, having lasted only about six months. You distinctly remember meeting the girl during one of your frequent visits to Seoul, at a small party hosted by Hoseok and his friends. By your next visit, however, things had already ended. He never really told you why the breakup occurred either—only that the relationship never would have lasted in the long run.

Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask softly. Reaching out, you take ahold of his hand and tug it into your lap, threading your fingers into the gaps between his. The gesture is familiar and comforting, like cocoa in front of a lit fireplace, and you can’t even begin to fathom the idea of another person sitting here and holding his hand in your stead.

“Just talk to me,” Hoseok entreaties, squeezing your fingers. “Distract me. What’s going on with you?”

You hum, swallowing down the lump in your throat and letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you pick through the events of the past week for the most interesting tidbits. “Bast has been bringing me dead rats lately,” you finally say, nose scrunching at the memory. “You should see the size of them—they’re almost bigger than he is. And they smell like the sewers, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s where he’s getting them from. It’s horrid.”

Hoseok huffs out a stilted laugh. “Sewer rats? Gross.”

“It’s not all bad, to be honest,” you tell him, nestling a little closer to the warmth of his body. Hoseok keeps his apartment chillier than you’re accustomed to, and you’re beyond grateful for the furnace-like heat he gives off naturally. “The bones are pretty useful. The tails too, provided you don’t tell people what they actually are.”

His laugh is much more genuine this time. “Tricky little minx,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ve always liked that about you.”

You ignore the uptick in your heart rate at his approval, grateful that he can’t see your face as a pulse of heat flushes your cheeks. Instead, you burrow into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Hoseok smells like the forest—fresh and woodsy, with a slight floral undercurrent from his fabric softener. It smells like home, and you smile when his arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders.

“Jin came by today,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” The monosyllabic response rumbles through his chest.

“Yeah. He asked about you, too. You should probably text him later.”

Hoseok hums a confirmation, and, satisfied, you cuddle a little closer to him. You pull at the afghan he keeps laid over the back of the couch, laying it comfortably over your lap as he rests his head gently atop yours, his ear pressed to your crown. Your eyes fall shut as you listen to the rhythmic thud of his pulse—solid and steady, backed by the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant traffic on the street far below.

It’s comfortable, sitting with him like this. Comfortable, stroking his arm with your fingertips, in time with the drumbeat of his heart. Ever so gradually, Hoseok’s breathing evens out, and you briefly think that you could stay like this—encapsulated in this delicate, iridescent bubble of contentment—for the rest of your life.

You know the thing about bubbles, though? Bast remarks dryly in your head. They burst.

I know, you sigh.

I know.

///

There’s something soothing about taking inventory—something calming in the repetition of walking down the aisles of Hellebore and restocking the shelves one by one. You’d woken this morning to an apologetic Hoseok making pancakes in the kitchen, his residual heat and woodsy scent lingering on the blanket tucked around your body. After a harried breakfast and a promise to text you later, Hoseok rushed off to the office.

You, in turn, returned to your shop, where you grabbed every ounce of cleaning supplies you possess and scrubbed the place from top to bottom, foregoing all of your usual dishwashing charms and dust-clearing jinxes. The physical labor is a welcome distraction from the events and revelations of last night, and you’ve thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all the chores you need to complete.

“Almost out of rosehip oil,” you mutter, eyeing the half-empty vial and making a note to extract more from one of several plants in your greenhouse. “Low on valerian too, hmm…”

The bell over the front door jingles merrily, diverting your attention away from your task. “{Name}?” a voice calls softly. A moment later, a familiar head of coppery red hair pops around the edge of the shelves, choppy bangs framing a soft, warm face. “Hey, there you are. You busy?”

You shake your head and shut your inventory book, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “Not terribly, no. What brings you here today, Lisa?”

Lisa’s answering smile is sheepish. “Got something to return,” she says, holding up a little glass jar full of lavender colored pills that you immediately recognize. “I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news. Looks like I won’t be needing these anymore, right?”

Your laugh sounds brittle, even to your own ears. “Right. Yeah. Not anymore.”

For just over ten years, Lisa has been the wolf assigned to help Hoseok through his heat. Between his family’s status and his longtime designation as the next alpha of the Gwangju pack, it’s imperative for Hoseok to avoid anything that might be perceived as scandalous. Torrid sex stories splashed across tabloid covers is the last thing a man like Hoseok needs, and that’s where Lisa comes in. Once a year, for three days, she goes to him, and no one is none the wiser. Her job is one that calls for the utmost discretion, and as the daughter of a high-ranking Council official, no one understood that better than she did. You’d only found out because of your role as one of the few witches in the country who makes and stocks the proper contraceptives for such wolves—the dosage much stronger than the human equivalent.

And when Lisa had first approached you to purchase the pills, you’d dropped two jars and nearly set fire to a third. Your stomach had fallen to somewhere around your toes, right alongside the shattered glass and little lavender tablets.

You’d chalked the accident up to surprise. Hoseok hadn’t mentioned anything to you, after all, and you’d known very little about the intricacies of werewolf heats back then, having just opened your shop at age eighteen. But surprise doesn’t explain the snaking jealousy that bubbles up in your tummy every time Lisa comes in to restock her supply of pills, nor does it explain the overwhelming sense of relief you feel now as she presses the unopened jar into your hands.

“I still can’t believe he’s going to be the most powerful man in Gwangju soon.” Lisa steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting out a soft sigh. “And now he’s engaged, too. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”

“Crazy,” you agree tonelessly, turning to replace the jar onto the appropriate shelf.

Lisa, however, is nothing if not perceptive. A gentle hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey,” she begins, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you—?”

But the sound of the bell drowns out the rest of her question, metallic and bright in the quiet of your shop. “Hello? Anyone home?” a cheery voice asks.

“Be right there,” you say immediately, shrugging off Lisa’s hand and stepping out from amongst the shelves. There’s a young woman standing at the checkout counter, rifling through the collection of seeds on display, and you cringe as she replaces a few packets in the wrong spots. “How can I help you?”

At the sound of your voice, the woman turns gracefully on her heel, her expression a perfectly crafted amalgamation of surprise and delight. “{Name}!” she exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. “Long time no see!”

“N-Nayeon,” you stammer, the shock of seeing her face freezing you in place. “What… what brings you here?”

The dark-haired woman steps forward to pull you into a hug, enveloping you in her fruity perfume. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to catch up with an old friend?” she asks playfully.

We were never friends, you want to say. In your head, Bast lets out a derisive snort of agreement. Lisa, you notice, has conveniently melted away somewhere amidst the organized chaos of your shop, disappearing into the myriad shelves and knickknacks.

“Plus, I really wanted to look at some flowers,” Nayeon continues, betraying her true purpose at last. “You’ve heard, haven’t you? About my engagement? I’m sure Hoseok—I mean, my fiancé—has mentioned it to you, of all people. You are his best friend, after all.”

The inside of the shop is beginning to feel stifling. Perspiration trickles down your neck and you tug at your collar, loosening the material from where it’s plastered against your skin. “Sure,” you manage, once you feel like you can breathe again. “Right. Sure. The flowers are right this way, if you want to follow me.”

I’d forgotten how much I don’t like her, your familiar remarks dryly in your head.

Shut up, Bast.

Mercifully, he does. There’s a tug on your feet, and you glance down just in time to see him morph out of the shadow you cast against the sun-drenched floor. Ghostly and amorphous at first, he quickly solidifies into the feline figure you’ve grown accustomed to, and slinks protectively around your ankles before darting off to perch in the cushioned bay window seat.

Conveniently, that’s also where the flower display is. Colorful blooms and trailing leaves adorn the wooden shelves and tables in this particular corner of the shop, and you force yourself to shift back into professional mode as you come to a stop in front of an assortment of honeysuckle. “So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?” you ask, brushing your fingers along the pale yellow petals.

Nayeon hums thoughtfully and picks up a potted rosebush, examining it from all angles. “Roses, maybe. Are roses too clichéd now?” She brings the crimson buds closer and inhales, eyes fluttering shut. “No matter. I’ve always liked them.”

“They’re beautiful,” you agree, turning your attention to the selection of roses lining the topmost shelf. “Do you have a color preferen—?”

“Or maybe these would be better,” Nayeon interrupts, plucking up a pale pink calla lily from the bouquet you keep in a table display. “Or that one—what is it?”

You follow the trajectory of her gaze to a bunch of little white flowers with golden centers, stark against the dark dirt and surrounding green foliage. “That would be bloodroot,” you answer. “One of my personal favorites—it’s both ornamental and medicinal. It would look lovely in a bouquet.”

Nayeon pulls a face and shakes her head. “No, no—I don’t want anything with such a horrible name. What about these?” she asks, reaching up to take a closer look at a larger bloom. “Peonies, right?”

By the time Nayeon makes it back to the checkout counter with a few sample rose cuttings in hand, you’re fairly certain that several eternities have passed. “Is there anything else you need?” you ask as you ring her up and wrap the flowers neatly in paper.

“A discount for an old friend?” she queries, shooting you a playful wink. When you don’t answer right away, she giggles. “I’m kidding! Obviously, I’ll pay. It’s not like I’m pressed for money—I mean, you’ve seen who my fiancé is, right? Now gosh, where did I put my wallet?”

Your cheeks are beginning to feel far too hot. Nayeon is still rummaging in her purse, and you quickly duck beneath the counter under the pretense of looking for some ribbon to tie off the bouquet. Fanning your face, you take a few deep breaths, listening as she continues chattering away.

“We’re having dinner tonight, actually, Hoseok and I. It’ll be our second real date, and… wait!” She gasps, and you peer up just in time to see her slap a hand over her perfectly lacquered mouth. “You should come! Bring someone, if you can—it’ll be like a double date!”

If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.

You sigh inwardly and straighten back up, ribbon in hand. Shut up, Bast.

If you won’t, I will.

You’ll do no such thing.

Mustering up your best, most earnest smile, you hand over the wrapped flowers along with her change. “That sounds like fun,” you tell her, ignoring the way your insides lurch at the lie. “When and where?”

Nayeon beams and rattles off the address of an unfamiliar restaurant. “Don’t be late!” she calls as she heads for the door. The bell jangles cheerily as she departs, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, Lisa pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf.

“Finally,” she sighs, walking over to join you. “I thought she’d never leave.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t dare speak ill of a customer, but you’re willing to make an exception today. “You and me both,” you reply, watching as Bast slinks over like a shadow and hops onto the counter beside you. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your elbow in silent solidarity, and you mindlessly begin scratching behind his ears as Lisa speaks again.

“Are you really going to go to that dinner tonight?”

You meet her gaze, shrugging. “I already said I would. Do I really have a choice?”

There isn’t much else to say, and both you and she know it. Pushing off from where she’s leaning against the countertop, Lisa flips her coppery hair over her shoulder and shoots you a look, brown eyes full of sympathy. “Good luck,” she says sincerely. You get the feeling that she wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, she bids you goodbye and walks out with a wave and another chime of the bell. Silence settles over the shop once more, and you allow yourself a few moments to breathe—slow and deep, in and out—before picking up your phone and opening up the most recent text messages. It doesn’t take long to find the name you’re looking for, but you still pause, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before you begin to type.

[4:21pm] You: how would you like to join me for a very awkward dinner date?

[4:21pm] Jin: consider me intrigued.

///

You and Jin arrive at the restaurant first. It’s an ornate, palatial place with tuxedoed waitstaff and a coat room, and despite giving the name ‘Jung’ at the door, you’re certain that Hoseok played no part in the venue selection. The host ushers you to a booth tucked in the back, the cushioned seats a velvety burgundy and a chandelier glittering overhead, throwing refracted, iridescent light across the veined marble table. All of a sudden, the simple black dress you’re wearing feels painfully inadequate. Glancing down at your feet, you wonder if you should have worn heels instead.

Beside you, Jin cuts a striking figure in a creamy silk shirt with ribbons that tie into a bow at his throat, the material loose and flowy up until where it tucks into fitted black slacks. His pink hair complements the elegant outfit perfectly, parted and swept off his forehead to reveal his dark brows.

As if reading your mind, he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he says, before gesturing at the booth. “Now, do you want the inside or outside? Think you’ll need to make a quick getaway at some point?”

“Probably,” you sigh. Jin nods and sits down first, and you watch him slide across the seat cushion before settling in beside him. “I still can’t believe you volunteered to be here,” you murmur, plucking up one of the folded cloth napkins and fiddling with the crisp white edges. “You’re a saint, I swear.”

Jin chuckles and plucks the napkin from your clasped hands, laying it across your lap instead. “Not a saint,” he says, matching your soft tone. “Just someone who cares about you.”

Your cheeks warm at his sudden proximity. “Thank you,” you tell him, for what must be the umpteenth time. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing you don’t have to, then,” he replies with a grin. “Now, chin up. They just walked in.”

You can’t help the groan that escapes you. “Is it too late to run?”

“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.

And then Nayeon is slipping into the cushioned seat opposite you, syrupy smile in place on her berry lacquered lips. “Hi!” she chirps, laying a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he sits down beside her. “Sorry we’re late. We, um…” She pauses and shoots Hoseok a conspiratorial look, giggling. “... lost track of the time.”

Your magic flares, hot and bright in your veins, and you know Jin feels it too when he lays a cautionary hand on your knee beneath the table. “We weren’t waiting long,” he says, offering the two a genial smile. He’s perfectly polite as he and Nayeon exchange quick introductions, and gestures toward the assortment of menus on the table as soon as everyone has settled down. “Why don’t we order some wine to start?”

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea! Isn’t that a splendid idea, Hoseok?” Nayeon turns to the auburn-haired man beside her, and you do the same, gaze landing on Hoseok for the first time tonight. He’s in an all black ensemble, sharp jacket layered over a silky black shirt, the top buttons loosened to bare a tantalizing sliver of golden skin. His auburn hair is parted, a stray lock falling across his forehead, and you shiver when you realize he’s staring right back at you with dark, unreadable eyes.

At the sound of Nayeon’s voice, Hoseok seems to snap out of his trance, his expression smoothing out as he plasters on a smile. “Take a look at the menu,” he says, picking up the leather-bound book and offering it to her. “Dinner’s on me.”

You blink. “We can’t let you do that, Hobi.”

“Let me pick up at least part of the tab,” Jin adds, already reaching for his wallet. “I’m no corporate bigshot, but I do well enough for myself.”

“No need to be modest,” you chime in, nudging him playfully. “Weren’t you just telling me about your new restaurant opening on the way over? Next week, right?”

Jin’s ears redden as all the attention is turned onto him. “Next week, yeah.”

“That’s amazing!” Nayeon chirps, pressing closer to Hoseok. “We’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe a date night, right, darling?”

Hoseok busies himself with rearranging his cutlery, swapping the knife and fork around. “Right—sure. If we ever make it up to Seoul, we’ll, uh… we’ll definitely stop by. Congratulations, man.”

The conversation continues. A server stops by to take your wine order, and Jin decides on a moderately priced bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Glasses are brought over, and wine is poured. Hoseok finishes his quickly and pours himself another, and though his wolf metabolism prevents him from getting drunk off of regular wine, you know that he’s a bit of a lightweight and tends to avoid drinking heavily no matter what the beverage. He’s drinking with a purpose tonight, and you’re beyond grateful when Jin pipes up with yet another story when the conversation lulls.

“And then I found out that the oven was on the whole time! Adam would probably let the entire apartment go up in flames just to spite me—I should watch my back.”

“Or, you know, just watch the oven more closely,” you tease. “I’ve seen your place, Jin—it’s a complete fire hazard. It’s a wonder it hasn’t burned to the ground already.”

Jin sniffs. “You’re exaggerating. Stop making me look bad.”

“You make yourself look bad,” you retort, laughing when his lower lip juts out into a pout.

Across the table, Hoseok clears his throat. “Speaking of fire hazards—did I ever tell you about the time {Name} set me on fire?”

“I did no such thing!” you protest, reaching over to slap his arm. “I mean, okay, maybe a little bit, but that was one time! And you were barely singed!”

Hoseok snorts out a laugh. “Barely singed? I couldn’t sit properly for a week.”

“Oh please, that’s a lie and you know it!”

Nayeon interrupts your conversation with a loud huff, setting her wineglass down with enough force to thud against the veined marble tabletop. “Do one of you maybe want to fill us in on the joke here?”

Abashed, you glance back at Hoseok, watching as his smile slowly fades back into the careful, neutral expression he’s worn all evening. “Sorry,” you murmur. “It’s an old story from when we were kids—when we first met, actually. We were seven years old, and it was the second day of school. I didn’t have a very good handle on my magic yet, and accidentally set Hoseok’s tail on fire during recess.”

“I preferred to run around in my wolf form back then,” Hoseok further elaborates. “There was a big field out behind the school—remember that, {Name}?”

You nod. “Of course. It went right up to the very edge of the woods. And if you kept going and went far enough, you reached the old wooden bridge.”

Hoseok is smiling again, soft and fond. “That thing was a death trap.”

“But the teachers could never keep us away,” you say, grinning at him.

“All right,” Nayeon interrupts again, sniffing disdainfully. “Enough about the old days—I think it’s time to talk about the present. And more importantly, the future.” She sighs happily and props her chin up in her palm, ensuring that the delicate golden band on her ring finger is on full display, the metal glimmering in the warm light. “You’re both invited to the wedding, of course. And I never did properly thank you for the flowers today, {Name}!”

Her words seem to come as a surprise to Hoseok, who straightens up in his seat. “Flowers? You visited Hellebore today?”

“Of course I did!” Nayeon hides a giggle behind a manicured hand. “I wouldn’t even think of trusting anyone else with my bouquet.”

Hoseok’s gaze skitters over to you, awash with concern and tinged with apology, but you ignore him in favor of forcing your expression into something that’s meant to be a smile. Yet no matter how much you strain your cheeks and stretch your lips, it feels—and looks, you’re sure—far more like a grimace.

“I’m happy to do it,” you lie, your teeth gritted and tight. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

///

“So. That was just as awkward as promised.”

You and Jin are walking back to Hellebore, leaving behind the bustling downtown area for the darker, quieter streets of your neighborhood. Your companion’s hair is tinged orange in the glow from the streetlamps, and you can only chuckle humorlessly when he turns to you and raises his eyebrows.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.

A car drives by, the headlights throwing Jin’s profile into stark relief. His expression is solemn but he doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The remainder of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the occasional strain of conversation from passersby and the low drone of late night traffic. You reach Hellebore with no incidents, and you muffle a yawn as Jin steps into the wardrobe to go back to Seoul.

Just before he shuts the door behind him, he shoots you a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. He deserves to know. And you… you deserve to be happy.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t need him to. Long after he’s gone, his remark echoes in your head, and no matter what, you simply cannot seem to shake it.

///

It’s been years since you’ve last gone to the old bridge, but after last night’s conversation you find yourself pulled back, lured by the promise of memories of a kinder time. The forest beyond the field hasn’t changed much since your school days, and neither, you realize, has the bridge itself. It still stands tall, proudly spanning the steep ravine that your teachers warned you about, the rickety wood splitting apart at the seams and overgrown with lichen and climbing ivy. Far below, the white-capped river rushes by on its long, turbulent journey to the sea.

Carefully, you step onto the bridge—first one foot, then the other. The energy in the air shifts as soon as your feet leave the loamy earth, finding traction instead on hewn wood, and you sigh as your fingertips brush against the railing. The magic here is an old magic—different from the ancient magic that dwells in places like the werewolves’ clearing and the realms of the fae. The low thrum of it fills the air and seeps into your veins, quickening your pulse and prickling your skin.

“I thought you might be here.” The voice comes from your left, barely audible over the rush of the river.

“You thought right,” you reply, stepping forward until you’re toeing the railing and leaning over to stare down into the swirling, eddying waters below.

Hoseok joins you at the edge. His profile is stark against the leafy green backdrop, and for a few moments, all is still. Then: “I’m really sorry about last night.”

The apology hangs in the silence for a few moments before fading into the sound of churning water and wind whistling through the trees. You suck in a deep breath, oxygen swelling your lungs until you can hold it in no longer, before letting it escape in a resigned sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hoseok.”

“Maybe not. But I want to.” He shoots you a sidelong glance. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You raise a brow. “Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

“Anything you want.” Hoseok smiles crookedly, but you can’t quell the tumult brewing in your belly.

“What do you want, Hobi?”

His smile fades. “I—” He stops and shakes his head, auburn hair flying. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is about you.”

You gaze up at him, taking in the sharp cut of his jawline and the straight angle of his nose. Your eyes trail along the smooth slope of his rounded cheeks and the soft curve of his mouth, lingering on the little mole atop his upper lip.

And then you reach out and take his hand, savoring the way his fingers immediately, comfortably settle into the spaces between your own. “Why don’t we head down to the river?” you ask. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been, and I’ve missed it.”

Hoseok’s expression softens, a glimmer of something bright shining in his amber-flecked irises. Gently, he tugs on your hand, taking the lead as you leave the bridge behind and head north in search of the sloping path that will take you down and into the ravine that houses the riverbed. You chance a few glances over the treacherous edge, watching the water froth and tumble over the rocks.

“You know, this seems a lot more dangerous now than it did back then,” you muse. “I see why our teachers were always trying to keep us away.”

“We were kids back then,” Hoseok says, grinning. “We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us.”

“Simpler times,” you agree with a laugh. “I set your tail on fire, you cried—”

“—and then we became lifelong friends,” Hoseok finishes, joining in your mirth. “Easy-peasy.”

Together, you locate the path down to the ravine. The descent is easier than it was back then, your longer limbs extending your reach, but you’re grateful for Hoseok’s steadying hand all the same. He carefully guides you around the biggest rocks and tree roots, pulling you closer when you lose your footing near the bottom. His fingers remain twined with yours even after you’ve safely arrived at the riverbed, stepping across stones that have been worn smooth and warmed by the sun. You slip off your shoes, letting them dangle from your free hand, and Hoseok does the same.

Sunlight glitters off the water, throwing a thousand refractive diamonds across the surface, but when you dip your toes in you find that it’s cold as a mountain spring in autumn. That doesn’t stop Hoseok from bending down to splash you though, and you shriek in surprise before retaliating with a silent spell that sends icy water splattering across the faded denim of his jeans.

“That’s not fair!” he protests. “You can’t use magic!”

“I’m just using every resource available to me,” you reply with a sly grin, sending a swelling wave of water toward him with a lazy twist of your hand.

From beneath his drenched hair, Hoseok raises a challenging brow in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

Before you can even blink, he’s shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head, baring a taut, honeyed abdomen and toned arms. Tossing the discarded clothes onto the bank, he unfastens his belt and lets that drop as well, fixing you with a crooked little smirk all the while. The muscles in his torso ripple.

And then he’s shifting—limbs elongating and reddish-brown fur sprouting from his skin. His remaining clothing rips under the strain of the transformation, floating downstream in tattered shreds, but you don’t pay them any mind. No matter how many times you’ve watched Hoseok shift, you’ll never quite get used to it. He hunches over, more beast than man at this point, his chest rumbling. And before you know it—before you can even pinpoint exactly when the transformation is complete—he’s standing before you as a massive russet wolf, baring ferociously sharp teeth that you know could easily tear a man limb from limb.

His eyes, however, remain the same—warm, molten brown flecked with amber and gold, a devilish twinkle lurking in their depths. You cock your head to the side in a silent challenge, and swear that the wolf in front of you grins before pouncing forward, landing in the river with an enormous splash that leaves you thoroughly drenched.

“Now we’re both soaked!” you cry in between giggles, watching as Hoseok emerges from the water, his fur dampened black and dripping. “How is this a win for you?”

Hoseok rears back and lets loose a triumphant howl, shaking himself out and further drenching you with the spray of water from his coat. You squeal and back up several steps, batting him away, but Hoseok just presses closer and nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck. His body heaves with every breath, flaring hot against your skin, and for a few long moments, you simply stand there, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as icy water rushes past your ankles.

After what feels like an eternity, you step back, releasing Hoseok and staring up into his face. Even in his wolf form, he towers over you, and you reach up to stroke his muzzle tenderly before bopping him on the nose. “Come on,” you murmur. “Let’s dry off.”

Hoseok lets out a low rumble of agreement, and together, you make your way back to shore. You fold up his discarded clothing while he trots off to locate his shredded jeans, quickly finding them caught between some rocks and carrying the denim tatters back over to you in his teeth. Shaking your head, you add it to the growing pile and lay a hand atop it. Heat concentrates in your fingertips, mingling with the magic running through your veins. Stitch by stitch, his jeans repair themselves, drying in the process. Hoseok bumps your cheek with his nose in gratitude and darts off to change, and you dry your own clothes while you wait.

When Hoseok returns, he’s reverted to his human form, fully dressed and raking a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for drying these off,” he says, flashing you a sheepish grin. “And for fixing my pants. Again.”

“Mending charms are easy,” you reply, and it’s the truth. Over the many years you’ve known Hoseok, you’ve mended his clothing countless times—from the accidental transformations in his early years, before he could control it, to the calculated ones as he got older. Hoseok doesn’t shift terribly often nowadays, but on occasion he still goes out to stretch his muscles and hunt with his pack. His grandfather, in particular, always made the time to take him hunting at least once a month. You wonder if he’s gone since he passed, but decide not to ask.

“Should we go see the Towers?” you ask instead.

“Lead the way,” he agrees, falling into step beside you as you head downstream. The ravine walls are higher here, decorated with gnarled roots and rocky outcrops that obscure the periwinkle sky and cast long shadows across the ground. Cairns begin to crop up on both sides of the river—each tower of stones carefully and deliberately stacked. They’re small and scattered at first, but gradually become taller and more frequent until you’re nearly surrounded by a forest of stone. The air grows noticeably heavier—the magic more potent. It almost feels as if electricity is dancing across your skin, the sparks sinking into your pores and melding with your soul.

Hoseok feels it too, if the look of awe in his eyes is any indication. “I can’t believe I’d nearly forgotten about this place,” he marvels, running a finger across one of the stacked stones. “Do you feel that? The magic?” Then he chuckles. “Wait, of course you do. What am I talking about?”

You smile softly, tracing the path his fingertips leave behind. “Yeah, Hobi. I feel it.”

The topmost stones are almost out of your reach now. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a gray pebble about the size of your palm—a near perfect disc veined with white. Gently, you place it atop the cairn closest to you, watching it glint in the sunlight for a moment before turning to your companion.

“Well?”

Ancient legend dictates that as long as an offering is left, one may take a stone from the Towers. You and Hoseok have each acquired a rather sizable collection during your childhood years, lured by the promise that the stones will bring about good fortune and happiness.

“I forgot to bring something,” Hoseok admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I can pick one out for you. Hang on…” He hums thoughtfully as he scans the towering pillars, tapping his chin until he alights on one in particular, plucking up a stone that’s been worn smooth, burnished orange and marbled with ivory and copper. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, admiring the way the marbled surface glitters in the sun.

Hoseok takes your hand and places the stone gently in your palm. “It’s yours.”

Then he’s off—stepping over a fallen log to admire another tower, brushing a curious finger across a moss-covered rock before glancing over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”

You nod, tucking his gift away safely in your pocket. Together, you carve out a path amongst the towering cairns, clambering over river rocks and brushing aside the dense undergrowth. The path opens up again gradually, revealing the burbling water to your left and the steep ravine wall to your right. The river is calmer here—clear enough to see all the way to the bottom where shimmering, silvery fish dart about. A low, flat rock juts out into the water a short ways away, and Hoseok strides over to plop atop it, gesturing for you to join him.

“This is nice,” he sighs once you’ve made yourself comfortable by his side. “The fresh air is doing me a world of good. I’ve been cooped up at the office for so long, I swear I almost forgot what trees smell like.”

“You’re more than welcome to sniff around the shop if you ever need a reminder,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Better yet, I’ll bring you a plant for your office. Spruce up the place a little bit.”

“That sounds great, actually,” he admits with a chuckle. “I don’t have your green thumb, though. I’ll probably end up accidentally killing it.”

“Something low maintenance, then,” you promise. “A succulent, maybe. When should I bring it by?”

Hoseok’s expression sombers. “You can always stop by tomorrow after the hearing.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach. The Ministry—the overarching government body that dictates all Shadowfolk affairs—summons every pack alpha for a confirmation hearing when they first come into power. “They’re holding the hearing? Already?”

He nods. “The Ministry’s summoned me for tomorrow morning. First item on their schedule, I’m pretty sure.” A resigned sigh escapes his lips, dissipating into mist on the air. “And there’s a party at JungTech HQ afterward. You know. So my dad can officially hand the reins over.”

“The most powerful man in Gwangju,” you murmur, thinking back to Lisa’s words.

Hoseok lets out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The most powerful man, beholden to his dad, the Council, and the entire fucking Ministry. It doesn’t matter what I want to do. Never has.”

It’s the second time he’s dismissed his feelings, and as much as you want to ask what it is he truly wants, you find that the words are stuck in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert on a cloudless day. Instead, you lay a silent hand over his, feeling his warmth seep up into your palm.

“Hey.” Hoseok doesn’t tear his gaze away from the sky, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. “Yesterday, when Nayeon said she’d stopped by… did she say anything to you?”

The sound of her name leaving his lips leaves a sour taste on your tongue, but you swallow it down. “Not really,” you tell him. “She looked at some flowers and invited me to dinner. Simple as that.”

Hoseok nods slowly, lips pursed. “Was Jin already there when she came?”

You blink. “Jin? Oh, no—no, he wasn’t. I texted him after Nayeon left.”

“Ah.”

“I’m glad he was free, though.” You stare down into the water, where a curious fish swims in and out of the shadow you cast. “I’m honestly not sure who I could’ve invited if he hadn’t been available. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve had dinner with him, and it’s been a few months since you’ve seen him too, right? I’m really happy it worked out.” You’re rambling now, but you can’t stop yourself. Hoseok has become eerily still, lost in introspection, and you feel obligated to fill the silence.

“You two make sense, you know.” Hoseok’s voice comes suddenly. “As a couple. Both witches—it makes a lot of sense.”

You peer over at him, eyes widening at his assumption. “We—we’re not actually together, Jin and I. We’re just friends.”

Hoseok straightens at that, his gaze flitting down to meet yours. “Really?”

“Really.”

A beat of silence. Hoseok looks like he wants to say something else, but a quiet buzz from his pocket stops him in his tracks. His mouth clamps shut as he checks his phone, teeth clicking together, and you can tell from the sudden tension in his jaw that it isn’t good news.

“Do you have to head back?”

He nods stiffly, silent apology written all over his face. “Work calls.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow after your hearing.”

He nods again and turns to leave. Before he can take too many steps, though, you call him back, reaching into your pocket to pull out the stone he’d gifted you earlier.

“Take this,” you murmur, pressing it into his hands. “I’m pretty sure you need it more than I do right now.”

Hoseok’s fingers curl protectively around the stone, holding on like it’s his only remaining lifeline. “Thanks.”

///

Downtown Gwangju is a monochrome forest of towering glass and steel, clamorous and unchecked by nature, proudly defiant in the face of the earth mother herself. The sidewalks are awash with people rushing back from their lunch break, forcing you to dodge around several businessmen too absorbed in their phones. Just as you are finding your footing again, a hapless intern carrying a tray of coffee cups rushes past, nearly crashing into you.

“Oh, shi—sorry! Sorry, oh, jeez. Are you okay?”

You wave off his apology with a smile, taking in the ill fit of his suit and the messy knot of his tie. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching out to help him steady the tray in his hands. A stabilizing spell—silently cast, the magic pulsing through your fingertips—should be enough to get him back to his office with no additional mishaps. You wonder if he’ll notice that his tray is suddenly more well-balanced, or that his hands have steadied.

But then again, you suppose it doesn’t really matter whether he does or not.

Somehow, someway, you make it to JungTech without running into anyone else. The receptionist recognizes you immediately and points you toward the elevator with a smile, and you thank her as you press the up button. It doesn’t take long to arrive, and you take a deep breath as you step inside, staring at your reflection in the mirrored walls.

All right? Bast queries, stirring awake in your mind.

You release the breath that you’d been holding in a long whoosh. Yeah. I’m all right.

The doors open on the top floor, and straight away, you are assailed by a cacophony of sounds. Scattered conversations and laughter intermingle with the clinking of champagne flutes. There are at least fifty people scattered around the open space that lies between the elevator and the glass-fronted CEO’s office at the very back—the office that bears Hoseok’s name on the door. There’s no sign of the man himself, but you have no doubt that he’s nearby. This entire party is a celebration for him, after all.

The elevator doors begin to close, and you quickly reach out to stop them, stepping out before it can protest at your dawdling. A young man in a pristine white shirt materializes on your right with a tray full of champagne flutes, and you pluck one off with a murmur of thanks. Sipping slowly, you wander around the perimeters of the party, listening to the lively chatter. Across the room, you spot Lisa, returning her friendly wave with one of your own.

“Hello, {Name}.”

The deep, familiar voice has you whirling around in an instant, head bowing in automatic deference. “Mr. Jung,” you murmur, not quite daring to look him in the eye. “It’s been a while.”

Hoseok’s father inclines his head in acknowledgment, salt-and-pepper hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. No doubt he was a handsome man in his younger days, but the salt in his hair has steadily overtaken the pepper in the last few years, the stern lines around his mouth deepening.

“I didn’t know you would be joining us today,” he says cordially. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all these years. Have you been here long?”

“Not long. Five minutes, maybe.” Beneath his piercing gaze, you feel like a small child again. Quickly, you scramble for something else to say, gesturing around the sleek glass interior of the office. “This is a lovely party. You must be so proud.”

Another nod. “I wasn’t sure that Hoseok was going to step up,” he admits. “I had my reservations about whether or not he would accept his duties as a Jung, but he has, and I’m pleased that he did. It’s no easy feat, running this company and leading the city’s pack. But I’ve served my time, just as my father did before me.” His gaze flits down to meet yours suddenly, and you find that you can’t read the emotion swimming in them. “I believe I spotted you at his funeral the other day, did I not?”

You nod, resisting the urge to take a sip from your nearly empty champagne glass as your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “I was, yes. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to pay my respects. He was a great man.”

“That, he was,” Mr. Jung agrees. “Hoseok takes after him in many ways. My father—as great as he was—always had a soft spot for the boy. Coddled him a bit too much.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I think that’s a grandfather’s job,” you reply with a smile.

That earns you a smile in return, the lines around his mouth easing. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Hoseok’s father excuses himself to talk to the other guests, and you set off in search of Hoseok himself. You can feel his aura somewhere nearby, strong and steady, but the room is large enough that you cannot pinpoint his exact location. Not for the first time, you curse the fact that you don’t have a werewolf’s sharp sense of smell. No doubt it could easily be as cumbersome as it is helpful, but it would certainly help you right now.

Turning a corner, you are about to continue lamenting your average olfactory system when you suddenly catch a glimpse of familiar auburn hair, afloat in a sea of black suits. Dodging around a sharply dressed businesswoman and ducking beneath a waiter’s serving tray clears your path to Hoseok, and you’re milliseconds away from stepping forward to greet him when you feel it.

There’s an energy emanating from Hoseok, the likes of which you’ve never felt from him before. It’s heavy and commanding and so potent that the air is laden with it, and a cursory glance at the people surrounding him reveals that they feel it too—their gazes lowered, voices hushed and respectful. In his fitted black suit and emerald green shirt, he looks every bit the alpha he is, and you are quickly realizing that you’re not immune to the power radiating off of him. The Hoseok standing before you isn’t the same Hoseok whose tail you set on fire all those years ago. Far from it. The revelation is somehow simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and your heart leaps into your throat when you notice that he’s waving you over.

As if compelled, you comply, striding forward until you’re standing before him. “Hi,” your murmur, suddenly feeling shy.

Hoseok’s face splits into a smile. “Hi yourself,” he says, and you would have laughed if your insides didn’t feel like they were about to burst.

“I, um. I brought you your succulent,” you tell him, reaching into your bag. There’s a tiny potted jade plant inside, packaged neatly into a box that you open up and present to him. “It’s jade. Easy to keep alive, and easy to propagate too, if you’re inclined.”

Hoseok accepts your gift, his smile growing as he admires the plump green leaves. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You shrug and wave off his gratitude, fiddling to clasp your bag shut. “So,” you start, glancing around and gnawing on your bottom lip, completely missing the way Hoseok’s eyes darken as he follows the movement. “It looks like everything went well at the Ministry. Your dad is pleased.”

Hoseok hums, low in his throat. “You talked to him?”

“Yeah, just now.”

“I see.”

He looks like he wants to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a blur of motion and a shrill cry of his name. A moment later, Nayeon is at his side, latching onto his arm and batting her lashes, adorned in a form-fitting red dress and golden jewelry.

“Hoseok! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Then her gaze alights on you, eyes going wide as if she’s only just noticed your presence. “{Name}, oh my goodness. I almost didn’t see you there, hi!”

“Hello, Nayeon,” you grit out, unable to hide your scowl. You wonder if she spotted it before you hid it behind a large sip of champagne.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. Her attention refocuses onto a spot behind you, and you watch as her expression lights up, delight etching across her features. “Mr. Jung!” she exclaims. “There’s my favorite future father-in-law. Come and join us—it’s not a party without you.”

Hoseok’s father chuckles lightly, coming forward to stand beside you. “Long time no see,” he jokes, nodding in your direction. “And Nayeon—hello. How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, I’m having the loveliest time,” she chirps, simpering up at Hoseok. “How could I not be, when my fiancé is here with me?” Then she smiles—her lips painted the same shade of red as her dress. “But I’m sure I’m nowhere near as happy as you are. You must be beyond excited to spend some quality time with your wife after being busy for so long.”

“I am,” Mr. Jung admits. The severity in his features softens as he seeks out his wife, standing across the room surrounded by friends and extended family. “I’m a very lucky man to have a woman like her.”

Nayeon giggles. “And I’m a lucky woman to have a man like your son. Isn’t that right, darling?”

She tilts her head to look up at Hoseok, who blinks twice in rapid succession, his throat bobbing. “Right,” he says, his voice raspy. “The luckiest.”

And as you turn to engage Mr. Jung in conversation once more, you miss the way his gaze lingers on you.

///

Tuesdays at Hellebore are for brewing. You save bottling for Thursdays—giving your potions and other concoctions ample time to simmer and set—but today, you are hunched over the stove with all four burners turned to different temperature settings, watching over your pots so that they don’t boil over.

A cursory glance out the window tells you that it’s well into the afternoon, the pastel blue sky littered with trailing clouds lit hazy and golden in the sun. You’ve been in the kitchen since early morning, and, desperate for a breath of fresh air, you crack the window open and inhale deeply. Then you turn back to the stove, giving one pot a stir and adding a pinch of burdock root to another.

Wandering downstairs, you head to the greenhouse. The sunlight is brighter here, the air more humid. Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the hundreds of plants growing inside, before heading for the laburnum tree in the far corner. Carefully, you brush aside the cascading golden flowers, about to gather the dried ones that have fallen to the dirt when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’m sorry, we’re close—” you say, stopping when you recognize the head of coppery red hair in the window. “Lisa?” Confused, you open the door and let her inside. “What brings you here today?”

“You need to go to Hoseok, now,” she says, foregoing any preambles. “He’s… well, you’ll see. Nayeon’s there right now, but she’s not helping the situation, and...” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help him now.”

All at once, your stomach drops to your toes. “What’s wrong with Hoseok?” you demand. “Is he hurt?”

Lisa shakes her head, red hair flying. “No, he’s fine. I don’t know how much longer that’ll last, though.”

The cryptic response sends your heart into overdrive, pounding against your ribcage like a doomsday drum. Striding over to the bay window, you wake Bast from his nap in a slanted ray of sunlight, scratching behind his black ears and watching as his golden eyes flicker open, pupils going wide when he senses your turmoil.

What is it?

Hoseok, you reply shortly. Beneath your touch, Bast’s ears perk up.

What do you need?

You swallow, hard, and suck in a deep breath. I’m going to open a portal.

It’s a dangerous feat, and both you and Bast know it. Opening a portal requires an immense amount of energy, and maintaining one long enough to travel through is a risk to even the most experienced witches. You’ve heard horror stories of spliced limbs and paralysis, and in some cases, even death.

But for Hoseok, you’re willing to risk it all.

“Lisa,” you say, grabbing your purse and striding back to the front door of the shop. “Can you lock up once I’m gone?”

She nods nervously. “Of course.”

You incline your head in silent thanks. At your feet, Bast is slinking continuous figure-eights around your ankles, betraying his worry at the task ahead. Your own heart feels ready to spring out from your ribcage and onto the sun-drenched floor, but you swallow down your nerves and look down at your familiar once more. Ready? you ask.

Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.

I will.

Closing your eyes, you begin to visualize Hoseok’s front door, focusing on every little detail you can remember. There’s the scuff in the black paint from when he first moved in and accidentally scraped a table leg against it. There’s the bronze knocker that always hangs slightly askew. The image builds slowly in your mind, coming together like the broken pieces of a puzzle.

The air around you is suddenly much warmer than before, an invisible force sapping away at your strength and weakening your legs. Bast’s energy melds with yours, but it’s barely enough to keep you on your feet. Exhaustion seeps into your bones and steals the oxygen from your lungs. You gasp, chest heaving.

I don’t think it’s going to work. Bast’s voice is a faint whisper in the back of your mind.

It will, you hiss. It has to.

The front door of your shop is beginning to glow white, becoming hazy and amorphous as the edges begin to blur. You spot a splash of black paint coming through the fog, followed by a bronze knocker. A matching handle appears a moment later, growing out of tendrils of mist and solidifying before your eyes.

Sucking in a deep breath, you reach forward to grab it. Slowly, you turn until you can turn no longer.

And then you step through.

The first thing you hear is a low, cavernous rumble—deep enough that you feel it reverberating through your very bones. Then your surroundings begin to come into focus. You’re in Hoseok’s entryway, all your limbs thankfully intact. The relief you feel at your success is quickly eclipsed by worry though, when you see Hoseok himself on the far side of the living room. The look in his brown eyes is nothing short of wild, his white shirt unbuttoned to nearly his navel and his auburn hair sweaty and disheveled.

“H-Hobi?” Your voice is no more than a breath, dissipating in the open air.

“Hoseok.” The new voice has you whirling. Nayeon is pressed against the wall opposite him, her expression harried. “Hoseok, please—“

“Get out,” Hoseok growls, his voice dangerously low. He’s bristling with the same energy as before, the same energy you felt back at JungTech—but this time it’s enough to fill the room and spill out the opened door and into the hallway. You can feel it pulsing against your skin, hot and electric, and know that Nayeon is even more affected from the way her shoulders slouch, her eyes dropping to the floor when he snarls. “Get out, now.”

She does. Nayeon turns on her heel and dashes out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with Hoseok. His eyes are alight with something more wolf than man, his chest heaving with uneven breaths, and it’s all you can do not to shrink back when he turns his full attention onto you. Even from across the room, you can smell the liquor spilled across the coffee table in a dark ooze of fluid, cloying and bitter.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You shouldn’t be here right now, {Name}.”

“Lisa told me to come,” you whisper. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much, Hoseok.”

Hoseok shakes his head and rakes a frazzled hand through his hair. “You need to leave,” he grunts. Shakily, he reaches out to right the overturned liquor bottle, the pad of his thumb skimming across the shattered edge.

“Let me do that,” you tell him, making to step forward, but Hoseok stops you with a raised hand and a low growl that stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me.”

You shake your head. “Hobi, it’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Let me help you.”

“No!” he snarls, flinching back when you take a step forward. “You need to leave. It’s… it’s dangerous for you here.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice is reduced to a whisper at the severity of his reaction, the energy in the air intensifying until it’s almost unbearable. “Why?”

“Because I’m in heat!” Hoseok spits. He sucks in a deep breath, the air whistling between his teeth, before he lets out an agonized moan and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m in heat,” he repeats, reticence dripping from every syllable. “I can’t even fucking think straight, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if you stay. So please, {Name}. Please go.”

“But Nayeon…” you begin, wavering when his eyes flash darkly at the mention of her name. “Or Lisa… I can call her, maybe—”

“No!”

You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.

“No,” Hoseok repeats, softer this time. “Don’t. I don’t want them. I’m—I’m fine.”

The sticky humidity and the pulsating energy flowing through the room tell you otherwise. “You’re clearly not,” you tell him gently, taking another step toward him. “Let me call Lisa. Or maybe one of the other girls in the pack, I’m sure someone can help y—”

“I don’t want Lisa.” Defeat suffuses his tone, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want any of them. I want—fuck.” Hoseok groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, the dull thunk echoing in the stillness. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. You need to leave, {Name}. You’re only going to be in danger if you stay.”

For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”

Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.

“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”

You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”

Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.

“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”

For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.

“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.

And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.

The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.

The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.

Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.

“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”

“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.

Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.

“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.

“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”

And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.

Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.

Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”

Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.

There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”

He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.

“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”

The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.

There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.

“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”

Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”

The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.

“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.

You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.

“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”

“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”

A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”

Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.

The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.

“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.

“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”

You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.

Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.

“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.

“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.

“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”

And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.

He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.

There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.

And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.

You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.

“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”

You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”

His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”

You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”

Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”

And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.

Consequences be damned.

⇢ aftermath.

also set in this universe:

[myg]

6K notes · View notes

maybege · 3 years ago

Note

With the calming AU I helped to curate. I can’t help but also contemplate calming the other alpha bucket heads. Boba. Boba would be such a tease, taking control and making you CRY in front of everyone. Ughhhh thick dick man. And Din? That sweetheart would literally have to ease into calming just as much as you. He wouldn’t even have you on his dick until 3 sessions in, even then he’s scared to cum inside until you’re crying and begging him. Anyways. Hai. I’m alive -🧋

🧋 anon! Hi! I’m very glad to hear you’re alive 🥰 and even gladder that you sent some very good thots 👀 which I will elaborate on a little under the cut

I’m feeling particularly inspired by that Boba thought because that man just exudes BDE and I don’t think it’s be any different with him being alpha. I bet there are rumors going around the tribe about how any omega that was chosen by him as a calmer refused any alpha’s advances except for their true mate’s because Boba Fett just fucks that good 👀

And imagine then being chosen by him? How this big broad self-assured alpha turns up in your doorstep, calling you little one and asking you if you’d like to join him? How could you say no? And being a little nervous because maybe you’re not that experienced and you’re unsure what’s expected of you but don’t you worry because Boba has plans 🥵

In my mind he’s definitely a dom and he shows that during the negotiations. Where Paz needs to have his calmer sit still or else he’ll get distracted, Boba is the one distracting you. He has all the toys, and keeps thrusting up into you, making you whine into his shoulder. He keeps teasing you and praising you and he definitely knots you at the beginning of a session only to overstimulate your until you’re drooling around his fingers and tears stream down your face and he smirks at you.

(“Look at you, your little pussy all stretched open for my knot, huh?” he murmured, his fingers pushing down on your tongue and you did your best to swallow, feeling a trail of wetness run down your chin. You’d never felt this hot, this wanted, this humiliated at the same time. And still you wanted more. You always wanted more. “What do you think?” he murmured, his other hand starting to work your clit again, your hips bucking with nowhere to go, “Think I can make you come again?”)

Anyway, don’t imagine being in blissful subspace and letting him just fuck you however he wants because if there’s one thing that’s for certain it’s that Boba Fett Can Fuck.

#anyway do we need a calmer AU boba oneshot now?#may answers #🧋anon #boba fett x reader #smut #alpha!boba vibes

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 2 years ago

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Candy Hearts and Paper Cut Families

Gunpowder and Watermelon (part one)

Autocorrected Anxiety Attacks and Messy Sexts (part two)

Pachyderms and Pointed Teeth (part three)

Knocked Up Knockouts and Cheesy Puns (part four)

A Little Less Sparkle, A Little More Reality (part five)

The Overwhelming Significance of Surprisingly Small Jellybeans (part six)

The Folly of Fracturing Sharp China and Soft Hearts (part seven)

Fear and Lusting in London Flats (part eight)

The Inevitability of Egos Clashing and Vicious Tongue Lashings (part nine)

Of Sugar and Spice and Virgin Tight Asses (part ten)

A Rebel's Yell and a Gangster's Paradise (part eleven)

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO/Omegaverse dynamics (knots, slick, vaguely confusing reproductive explanations), biting/marking, emotional talks, mpreg, Col getting in trouble, cuddly loving boys, hurt/comfort, coming out, come ons, boys in love 🖤 Rating: mature but like in a PG-13 way

Kells stared at his phone, a new alert was popping up every few seconds. It looked as if Gavin had taken it upon himself to get in touch with Ashleigh, they were buddies enough after helping with the single release and subsequent party and maybe Col hadn't gotten around to calling her soon enough but shiiit the boy had looked at him a certain way and opened his dripping thighs wider. He'd been so sticky the sound was fucking obscene and how could the alpha refuse anything he wanted? After an incredible fuck- love making session- the omega needed a snack and the alpha found his cell and groaned.

'Call me or I fly over there and cut off what you need most!', 'Don't make me find you!', 'That's it! You think I won't quit??', 'Col… I miss you.'

The last was what got him most and the pouty face emoji that followed. He loved all his gang but Ash was like his sister and he felt like an absolute dick. He rubbed a hand through his hair and sat his ass on the window sill, his thumb pressing 'video call'.

"COLSON! Shit, you're alive. Thank God. Are you okay?" Her worried face hurt his heart and the fact she checked in with him before screaming made him regret his dumbassery even more.

"Hey. I'm good! Great even. Shit Ash I'm sorry. I left a note?" He tried to give her his supposedly cute oops face but her glare felt like daggers and her high pitched scoff made his ears ache. She might not be an omega but her voice damn sure affected him. "Okay yeah but we've been over this before. I'm an idiot. Forgive me?"

"Oh we're not even close to that you dick. I think I deserve an explanation. From you not someone else. Now…" Her tone and eyes softened and a small hopeful smile curled her lips that she tried to bite back. He hated that she was worried about being overly excited for him but she knew him better than almost anyone. "There's a boy and a baby?"

His heart tripped over itself, it was real of course. He knew that. He watched his lover grow and looked at the grainy image of his pup every day but hearing his sister say it? "Fuck- yeah? Yeah there is. Ash… shit. I'm gonna be a dad." He hadn't said it so bluntly yet.

"And we're happy about this right? I mean you dipped out on your life so I have to assume… we're excited?"

"I've never been happier. God I know, I don't do this corny shit but… I'm happy. He's perfect."

"It's a boy? Or… Col, if I didn't know better I'd think you were in love." Her grin grew and he knew he was in for a world of teasing. It was deserved though.

"Shut the fuck up!" He cursed with a laugh, his free hand hiding his too wide smile and bubbling laugh. "No, we aren't asking but... You have no idea. Like fuck me I'm screwed Ash."

"It's about time someone leashed you! Settled the wild boy down. Is- Colson fucking Baker is that a MARK?" Her voice screeched in that happy bubbly way only chicks could do and his hand shot up to rub his scar. He'd deny until his last breath he blushed but his cheeks might have felt warmer.

"Hush it's… it's um… fuck. Yeah it is." He finally just shrugged and chuckled.

"I'm scared to ask where you put that poor boy's." She rolled her eyes and he flashed her his best patent smirk. Suddenly he felt hands on his skin, one sliding across his back tattoo and another on his wrist before finally there was messy hair poking his face and a head on his shoulder. "Dom oh my god hiii!"

"Bastard bit me chest 'is first night 'ere! Ello luv! I'm sorry I kept 'im 'ostage." Dom tried to give her his sweetest most innocent smile but the way she met him was on his knees blowing Colson that first night they made love so she knew he wasn't as precious as he attempted to appear. Ashleigh has been the only person on the rapper's side to know they'd hooked up, and Tom was his confidant. He felt terrible he hadn't pushed his daddy to call sooner.

"No! God no Dom! I… you don't know how happy I am for you guys. You both deserve this. I'm proud of him, honestly."

"What, you thought I wouldn't show up for my kid?" Kells couldn't help but ask, he hoped that wasn't what anyone thought.

"Of course not asshole! I know you better than that. I meant I'm proud it didn't take you long to get your head out of your ass and make the right choice with your mate. Of course you'd be there for the kid but letting yourself be happy?" The sigh that escaped her said a lot and maybe he couldn't admit it out loud but he knew she was right. "I love you asshole, I'm happy for you!"

"Even with the shit storm coming?" He huffed, arching a brow at the phone and Dom laughed.

"Fuck everyone else. Are you happy? Both of you?" She leveled another glare but glanced between them.

"I dunno, I could be 'appier if he was the whelped one. This shite is exhausting." The omega grumbled, making her giggle.

"Don't I know it. But seriously, you're all good? I'll deal with everything here and you can make whatever statement you want. I think you've got this though guys. You've got each other and that's what matters."

"So cheesy is a family fing? Maybe I should start calling Jellybee Mozzarella instead." The boy huffed but he was smiling wide. Kells curled an arm around him and pulled him into his lap, his palm where it belonged.

"Holy shit, you're so cute! Look at that b-"

"Beautiful bitch I know. You definitely weren't gonna say anything about-" Colson tried to help before Dom huffed.

"I'm round, I know. Bloody rotund even." Dom groaned, making them both scoff.

"Oh hon, I was already huge at four months! You're barely showing. Just steal one of his hoodies and you're set!" She cooed, trying to help relax him. Col was thankful, he loved the signs of his child growing but he knew his boyfriend got nervous. He had weight problems as a boy and old insecurities crept up. "You're glowing, you look beautiful. And I can already tell someone's obsessed." She winked.

"Fucking alpha he is." Dom teased, kissing his mate's cheek and wriggling in his lap enough to make the bastard groan.

"You mean another of my hoodies. This bitch is a little klepto!" He teased, tickling his boyfriend's belly. He could feel a rush of wet sticky heat soak through the boy's boxers into his and he knew they couldn't talk much longer. It was like the second they touched a timer started, a countdown until the inevitable desire set in and they'd fall into each other yet again. "Thank you though Ash. Thank you for being so…" He trailed off, there was no words to encapsulate all she was for him. Always had been.

"I know I'm the shit. You'd be lost without me. And without those two in your lap so I'm going to let you go but I'll start working and probably set up a flight time." She explained and his heart dropped, his hold on the boy pulling tighter.

"I can't leave Ash."

"Oh no! Fuck that. But I miss you kid. Auntie Ash is coming for a visit! Hope you got a room for me?" She looked hopeful.

He wanted to shout of course they do but he'd let his omega take control, after all it was his place. "Long as you bring tha' little prince wiv yas and plan to be 'ere for the birf. Someone's gotta teach me shit." Dom grinned back and Kells had never felt more in love.

They both caught the shine of tears in her eyes but she nodded and rushed through goodbyes, giving them carte blanche to come out to the world however they wanted. When his phone was locked and his arms were tight around his pack he almost felt overwhelmed with emotion. Damn it. "Thank you. You're the best, baby." He sighed, squeezing his lover tight.

"Oh I know. But… 'Onestly I could use 'er 'ere. I'm scared Cols. I don't got… I don't…" His voice broke off in a cute little growl but his lover knew he was exasperated.

"I know. Me too. I don't know how to be a dad without…" His throat tried to close up, they hadn't talked about their fears really yet and he wasn't sure they were ready. But even just that felt like a big step. Admitting their fear.

"It'll be good to 'ave 'er. But please luv, I know you gonna be amazing. We can figure it out. Togever."

"And you're going to be the best momma." The alpha soothed, cradling his boyfriend close as he stood slowly. "But, we'll figure all that shit out later cause first I want to show off how fucking awesome a daddy I am."

The purr went straight to Dom's cunt and he whined low, squirming in his mate's strong as hell hold. "I fink you could use a few pointers actually." He tried so hard to sound bored.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Definitely. Maybe I should tell yas exactly wha' I want you to do to me."

That tease made the man almost trip, all his blood rushing straight to his dick but he tried to recover with a playful shrug. "Yeah alright." But his mind whined- 'Please fucking do?'

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @jaxbreaker @hollywoodxwhore @cole-way-iero28 if anyone else wants tagged let me know! Thought it was only right to cover Col's talk as well. Hope y'all enjoyed the sweetness 🖤

#yungblud #dominic harrison #dom harrison #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #dom and colson #dom x colson #dom and colson fic #yungblud x machine gun kelly #com #com fics #my fics #abo #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #mpreg #emotional #boys in love

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weebsinstash · 4 years ago

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Ahhhh Gladio and Ignis make the perfect alpha pairing. Get absolutely railed raw by dom daddy gladio and then get all the best care and pampering from soft daddy ignis. Sounds like heaven. Then I guess noct and prompto are there too.

"Then I guess noct and prompto are there too" I'M HOWLING BECAUSE YEAH BASICALLY??? Noctis and Prompto come up to you all bright eyed and bushy tailed like "hey wanna go fishing down by the beach? 😃" and you politely decline and spare them the details of how you're too sore to hike to the fishing spot because Gladio got a little too spirited when he was jackhammering his huge dick into you last night and also probably put a few handprints on you that would definitely show up in a swimsuit

meanwhile Ignis just strolls up to your chair at the campsite to serve you a nice big plate of freshly cooked pancakes with cut fruit and flavored syrup, all goo-goo eyes and "It's a lovely morning 🥰 how are you fairing today?" like, how does he think you're doing, he watched his friend go total Alpha breeding mode on you and then helped tuck you into bed afterwards when you were so cummed out you could barely talk fkfjfjfjf

Noctis and Prompto in this scenario just like being more platonic protective and being all "gosh we wish they'd stop constantly sneaking off to bone our new BFF so we can hang out and play king's knight and ride chocobos ☹"

#yandere stuff #sinprompts #noct and prompto have good qualities i like too but its like.... boys vs men you know... apples and oranges....

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xfruitea · 5 years ago

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Discovering a new Kink

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Alpha! Jungkook x Omega! Female Reader

Warnings: Rough Sex, Anal, Rough Language, Slapping, Spanking, Pregnant, Hickeys, Biting, Man Handling, Child Kicking Kink, Raw Sex, Overprotectiveness, Hair Pulling, Dom!xSub!, Choking, Breast Lactation

(Pls tell me if I forgot something lmao)

Summary: You get home, drenched from the rain. Jungkook gets sensitive when it rains and wants to fuck you. You discover a new kink while fucking.

Word Count: 2.1K

Jk’s pov:

Why is she not here yet? I told her to come earlier because of the rain, didn’t I? Ughh, did something happen? Is she safe? Dammit! I’ll just call her again and if she doesn’t fucking pick up, I’m going out.

Fuck, she’s still not answering that damn phone, that’s-

The door opens, letting in a drenched and 6 months pregnant little Omega.

Y/n’s pov:

Why can’t it just stop raining already? It’s been more than 2 hours and Jungkook told me to get home earlier. He’s going to be pissed.. I can’t even reach him because my phone died. What makes matters worse is the rain though, Jungkook get’s really sensitive and needy when it rains. His pheromones increased a whole lot and I wouldn’t be able to take it. He is an Alpha after all. And the most dominant one at that. His pheromones are strongest I’ve ever felt.

You know what! Fuck you rain! I’m leaving, I don’t care if I get wet or not!

I arrive half an hour later, opening the door slowly, weary of what was to come.

“Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for? How worried I was? I couldn’t even reach you!” He growled at me, suppressing me with his intense pheromones.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have an umbrella and I thought I could just wait until it stopped... I wanted to call you but my phone died before I had the chance to..” I tried to explain myself to calm him down, but he started tapping his foot on the ground. He crossed his, in tattoos covered, arms and looked at me impatiently.

“You could’ve called a Taxi or something! For fuck’s sake, I was so worried something could’ve happened to you or the baby. I’ll just accompany you everywhere you go, that way I’ll be able to fully protect you.”

“What? You don’t have to.. You know Jin works at the company too” I stated.

“What? You’re not even working there anymore, you’re on rest! You’d rather have him by your side than me? You won’t see him, or anyone else again. Just stay by my side, you’re mine anyways.” He protested. My cheeks flushed a bright red at his last words. I’ve heard them so many times, but I just can’t get used to him being by my side. It feels so surreal.

“I- You know I just went there to pick up some stuff..” With every word I said, his eyes darkened more and more.

“Don’t argue with me, now strip” He ordered.

I knew he was needy because of the rain but I wasn’t sure if I really wanted this. I felt very self-conscious about myself at the moment. My belly was immensely swollen and my boobs had milk building up in them. I wasn’t sure, if he would want to see this sight of me. What if he didn’t like what he saw? I didn’t budge from where I was standing, still moist from the rain. He was coming up to me now, implying that I should do as he says. His pheromones got stronger and stronger until I started to suffocate in them. My breathing grew heavier with each step he took until he was now in front of me. I looked down to avoid his harsh gaze, but he grabbed my face and slapped me right across it.

“Ahh- Ow.., wha-” I looked at him, shocked that he would actually slap me.

“I told you to strip, why are you still fully clothed?” He cut me off.

“I- I’ll do it now” I mumbled, still unsure of myself.

My pheromones were weak, but he still perceived them. He could tell that I was uncomfortable but he just simply didn’t care right now. He had a bad day and was sensitive because of the rain. He had to release himself right now. He wanted to feel his marked mate squirm under him no matter what.

I slowly began to undress myself, until there was nothing left, placing my hands at the sides of my body. He just looked at me, the air getting even thicker, as new pheromones filled the room. He was horny, and it made me react too. I felt myself tingle under the sensation, that I’ve felt so many times now, still feeling stunned about how much power he had about me. His lust-filled eyes roamed my whole body, until he harshly grabbed my face and kissed it hungrily. The kiss was rough, his tongue didn’t leave any space for me to resemble resistance as he knew about every single one of my sweet spots. His muscular arms and hands traced my body figure, stopping for a second to feel my swollen belly. My body reacted to his every touch, sending shudders down my spine, lusting for more. He felt me pressing myself against his body, which made him let out a loud growl.

He grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the bedroom, pinning me against the wall in an attempt to deepen the kiss, after me breaking the kiss and gasping for air. We forced ourselves over to the bed after him aggressively yanking me onto the bed. I was now laying on my back, waiting for him to undress himself, it was at that moment, where I decided to admire his many tattoos once more. He flexed his muscular body as he made his way to the bed, hovering over my body. I could see his huge dick pulsating, waiting to release himself. Even after so many times, it was still intimidating, nobody could ever compare to his sheer size. Jungkook kissed me again, only this time not staying on my lips. He trailed his lips down my jawline and onto my neck, leaving smaller bite marks and hickeys behind. I moaned against him in response. I loved him leaving hickeys and bite marks, it reminds me of the time he marked me, which was painful but pleasurable at the same time. He stopped and looked at me for a second before grinning and looking at my boobs the second after.

“Wait Jungk-”

“Call me Alpha, my little Omega” He huskily said, his eyes now fixated on my tits.

“Alpha, please, you can’t touch them now.. They’re going to lactate if you do..” I said, my voice getting quieter by the second. He just chuckled before charging his lips on my right boob and his left hand on my right boob, squeezing them both in unison.

Jungkook licked his lips after tasting my own milk, while continuing to fondle my left boob. I felt embarrassed, ashamed even, so I covered my face with my hands. He wouldn’t have that, a smirk plastered on his face. He pinned my hands above my head and went back to my breasts, giving them his full attention. I felt myself get wet under his touch, which I showed him as I ground my lower body against his fully erect cock. He noticed this and moaned against my breasts, sending me shivers down my spine.

He licked his lips again after swallowing the last bits of my milk. He looked at my eyes, locking our gazes and rammed his raw cock inside of me without further notice. I gasped at his sudden entrance and felt tears build up at the corners of my eyes.

“Y/n, Fuck! You’re so tight for me” He groaned.

He didn’t let me adjust to his size as he continued to pounce into me, as if his life depended on it.

“J-Jungkook- ahh- my Alpha-” I moaned and cried out as pleasure took over my body, even though it still hurt a bit, him usually doing some kind of foreplay like fingering. He hit each and every sweet spot I had, making me a moaning mess.

He took out his cock for a second flipping me over on my back, making me stand on all fours and pushing his dick in once again, followed by more grinding. Once he felt like I had adjusted I felt a harsh pain on my butt cheek.

“Come on, baby girl, cry for your Alpha” He said in a dangerous and low voice.

I realised him spanking my ass a couple of times, resulting in me crying out loud from the pain. I cried out once more, as I thought that he had spanked me once again, but to my surprise it wasn’t him. I felt this kicking pain once more, when I realised it was my baby kicking in my belly.

“Jung- Jungkook! We have to s-stop!” I begged.

“The- Our baby is-” The baby kicked once again and I cried out again, my pussy tightening around his inserted member.

“Stop? You really want to stop? It seems to me though as if you’re liking it. Your beautiful pussy just tightened perfectly around my dick” With that he grabbed my hair, pulling it upwards to position me back up and continued groaning and fucking me senselessly.

“N-No.. That can’t be.. I-” I tried to focus, but there was too much pleasure going through my body. I felt my legs begin to shake under all of what was happening at the same time.

“I-I’m so close.. I’m going to..” I was near my end, although I didn’t see that in him yet.

“It’s okay, cum for me, you belong only to me” He whispered huskily into my ear. That was everything I needed to hear. His voice sent me off, climaxing all over his dick, which was still going at it with full speed. He realised this and slowed down a bit, letting me ride off my high. I found myself feeling so much pleasure, maybe even too much for me to handle all at once.

“I haven’t been satisfied yet though, how about I let you’re pussy rest for a while?” I didn’t know what he was up to, because I knew, he wouldn’t stop here. I tried to turn myself back on my back, but he stopped me from doing so. He placed his member at my other entrance and pushed into it mercilessly. Tears were now streaming down my face from this wide stretch, that I had only ever done once before, with a lot of foreplay.

He placed his hands on my waist und pulled me up, as he laid himself on his back. I moaned even louder as he started grinding into me from the bottom. His dick was now even deeper than before. I tried to hold my voice back a little bit, as I saw myself nearly screaming but he wouldn’t have that.

“Why are you trying to hold back your pretty little voice? I didn’t buy all these buildings kilometres away for you to hold your voice back like that. Let me hear you, baby girl” He chuckled lowly while sweating beneath me.

“I-I love you, my Alpha” It was the only thing that came to my mind. I kept moaning his name, while feeling my second climax rapidly build up inside me. This time I could also feel his thicc member get even bigger inside of me, meaning he would release anytime soon. He knew he was going to release soon, so he flipped me onto my back again and kissed me passionately this time, while also slowly bringing his hands up to my face, before caressing it.

He quickened his pace even more, making me feel over the top.

“Let’s cum together this time, how about it?” He demands. He knew I was really close to cumming for the second time, which made his demand so evil. I moaned on, trying to form words like ‘I can’t’ or ‘I won’t be able to’ but my mouth couldn’t. I couldn’t hold it anymore when I came for the second time and him putting his hands on my throat now.

“What did I tell you, babe?” He started squeezing his hands together, choking me as a result. I could hardly breathe anymore, but I knew, I couldn’t resist his every move. He loved seeing me struggle under him as much as I did right now. With his last movements he came into my ass, letting his seed flow into me. At the same time he let go of my throat, leading to me gasping for air, while feeling this hot sensation fill me up to the brim.

He took out his member, cum dripping slowly out of my ass. He helped me get under the covers and cuddled himself next to me. After the rough sex was over, he would always cuddle himself next to me and be the sweetest Alpha you have ever seen.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked gently.

“I’m good” I smiled happily at him. He put his hands on my belly to feel our long awaited baby.

“You want to talk about that new kink you got? You know.. The one where our baby kicked you and you felt good?” He grinned mischievously.

“Wai- No-”

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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Welllp These Are Books: the March 2021 Edition

There aren’t even any pictures! Except in that one book where there were pictures! It was weird! This was a weird book month! Back at it again with thoughts and opinions about a whole mess of books that no one explicitly asked for, but I’ve got lots of thoughts and opinions and they only count if I share them on the internet. Seriously, someone let me go to a baseball game soon. Obligatory warning for spoilers and vaguely unhinged rants under the cut. As always, feel free to come tell me what else I should be reading at literally any time ever.

Best Book of the Month Honors Goes to This Book, Even Though They Called It Halftime at a Hockey Game. A Hockey Game!

The Dating Plan by Sara Desai

Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can't give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiancé. Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend's little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy's matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather's will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren't about to follow the rules of this engagement.

— Ok, it’s important to know that I really did love this book. It hit all my trope-wants. Childhood friends, incredibly stupid misunderstandings, pining, seriously God the pining, fake engagement, BANTER. It was all going great. I was occasionally swooning. They kept making out! And then! THEN. They went to a hockey game. On a date. A fake date. Cool, cool, cool. All tropes, all the time right? Not so fast, internet! Because these self-proclaimed Sharks SUPER FANS referred to intermission as “halftime was coming up.” Halftime! At a hockey game! That’s—that’s not how hockey works! If this hadn’t been “traditionally” published, I probably could have let it slide. But that was not the case. This was a “real” book with, I can only assume, real editors. All of whom saw the words halftime and hockey near each other and we’re like YEAH, PRINT THAT SHIT. I read that at nearly one in the morning and seriously considered waking Justin up to be like CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS IN A REAL BOOK? Anyway, it was still real cute. Everyone lived happily ever after. It made want to eat samosas.

This Book Had Pictures, It Was Weird

Clean Sweep by Ilona Andrews

On the outside, Dina Demille is the epitome of normal. She runs a quaint Victorian Bed and Breakfast in a small Texas town, owns a Shih Tzu named Beast, and is a perfect neighbor, whose biggest problem should be what to serve her guests for breakfast. But Dina is...different: Her broom is a deadly weapon; her Inn is magic and thinks for itself. Meant to be a lodging for otherworldly visitors, the only permanent guest is a retired Galactic aristocrat who can’t leave the grounds because she’s responsible for the deaths of millions and someone might shoot her on sight. Under the circumstances, "normal" is a bit of a stretch for Dina.

And now, something with wicked claws and deepwater teeth has begun to hunt at night...Feeling responsible for her neighbors, Dina decides to get involved. Before long, she has to juggle dealing with the annoyingly attractive, ex-military, new neighbor, Sean Evans—an alpha-strain werewolf—and the equally arresting cosmic vampire soldier, Arland, while trying to keep her inn and its guests safe. But the enemy she’s facing is unlike anything she’s ever encountered before. It’s smart, vicious, and lethal, and putting herself between this creature and her neighbors might just cost her everything.

— So, Ilona Andrews is a name that keeps coming up because when I borrow a book from the library I have to go through Kindle and Amazon is like...here are some other absurd fantasy romances you’d enjoy. Also, one of her other series had been recc’ed to me. Only problem? The first book in that series is the only book in that series not available at my library. So, I was like, ok, I’ll start this one instead. It was...weird. Honestly, it felt like I’d been dropped in the middle of the story and the narrator was like, well why don’t you already know what’s going on? In theory the world building was cool. (I was not expecting alien werewolves, lemme tell you that!) But also it all felt very rushed and the end just sorta happened.

In Which I Continue to Love “Same Verse” Books & No One Else Had Sex in the Port Jeff High School Dugout. For Which I Was Grateful

Love Her or Lose Her by Tessa Bailey

Rosie and Dominic Vega are the perfect couple: high school sweethearts, best friends, madly in love. Well, they used to be anyway. Now Rosie’s lucky to get a caveman grunt from the ex-soldier every time she walks in the door. Dom is faithful and a great provider, but the man she fell in love with ten years ago is nowhere to be found. When her girlfriends encourage Rosie to demand more out of life and pursue her dream of opening a restaurant, she decides to demand more out of love, too. Three words: marriage boot camp.

Never in a million years did Rosie believe her stoic, too-manly-to-emote husband would actually agree to relationship rehab with a weed-smoking hippie. Dom talking about feelings? Sitting on pillows? Communing with nature? Learning love languages? Nope. But to her surprise, he’s all in, and it forces her to admit her own role in their cracked foundation. As they complete one ridiculous—yet surprisingly helpful—assignment after another, their remodeled relationship gets stronger than ever. Except just as they’re getting back on track, Rosie discovers Dom has a secret... and it could demolish everything.

— Listen, one of my absolutely favorite tropes that I do not think gets enough love in the world is COMMITTED LONG-LASTING RELATIONSHIPS. And, like, ok, sure the premise of this was that they were separating in that long-lasting relationship. But no one really believed that, did they? Rosie and Dominic were real cute and their banter was good and I wasn’t totally skeeved out when they literally fucked on the kitchen floor. So, I think that’s saying something. Also, also! I seriously appreciated the realism of this book because no one on Long Island would ever call Manhattan Manhattan. It’s the city. Every other borough gets a name, but Manhattan is just the city and I nearly cheered when they said that. But also, no one’s taking a cab from Port Jeff to the Meatpacking District. You know what that would cost? God.

Tools of Engagement by Tessa Bailey

Hair, makeup, clothing, decor... everything in Bethany Castle's world is organized, planned, and styled to perfection. Which is why the homes she designs for her family's real estate business are the most coveted in town. The only thing not perfect? Her track record with men. She's on a dating hiatus and after helping her friends achieve their dreams, Bethany finally has time to focus on her own: flip a house, from framework to furnishings, all by herself. Except her older brother runs the company and refuses to take her seriously.

When a television producer gets wind of the Castle sibling rivalry, they’re invited on Flip Off, a competition to see who can do the best renovation. Bethany wants bragging rights, but she needs a crew and the only member of her brother's construction team willing to jump ship is Wes Daniels, the new guy in town. His Texas drawl and handsome face got under Bethany's skin on day one, and the last thing she needs is some cocky young cowboy in her way.

As the race to renovate heats up, Wes and Bethany are forced into close quarters, trading barbs and biting banter as they remodel the ugliest house on the block. It's a labor of love, hate, and everything in between, and soon sparks are flying. But Bethany's perfectly structured life is one kiss away from going up in smoke and she knows falling for a guy like Wes would be a flipping disaster.

— It should first be noted that in the three books of this series, I could not and cannot understand why Bethany’s brother was such a monumental dick. He was just...he was a dick. His marriage was awful. How long was his wife pregnant without him knowing???? I digress. This continued to be cute, Bethany was a legit heroine as far as those rom-com things go, Wes was very Texas and that got a little over the top, but they had sex in a bed like normal people so that helped. Oh, except that one time on the construction site. Whatever, this book was cute. This whole series was cute, really, and I was a big fan of the happy little wrap-everything-up with a bow ending.

Romance That Happens In Point Two Seconds Is...Unbelievable

Too Hot to Handle by Tessa Bailey

The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up---six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle---Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . . Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight---he's forever.

— For as much as I loved the Port Jeff series by my new pal Tessa, this one was...oof. Too much, guys. Too much. Fucking in trucks. Fucking in back offices. The whole book lasted, like, three days. And keep in mind this is coming from someone who has written like two million words about Killian Jones, self-loathing champ 250 years running, but Jasper’s self-loathing was a little over the top. Like, let’s not objectify dudes, but also...I don’t know guys. Maybe the other books in the series are better? I was mostly just annoyed by Rita.

What the Hell Happened at the End of This Book?? Seriously, I Have No Idea

The Queen’s Assassin by Melissa de la Cruz

Caledon Holt is the kingdom's deadliest weapon. No one alive can best him in speed, strength, or brains, which is why he's the Hearthstone Guild's most dangerous member. Cal is also the Queen's Assassin, bound to her by magic and unable to leave her service until the task she's set for him is fulfilled. Shadow of the Honey Glade has been training all her life to join the Guild, hoping that one day she'll become an assassin as feared and revered as Cal. But Shadow's mother and aunts expect her to serve the crown as a lady of the Renovian Court. When a surprise attack brings Shadow and Cal together, they're forced to team up as assassin and apprentice. Even though Shadow's life belongs to the court and Cal's belongs to the queen, they cannot deny their attraction to each other. But now, with war on the horizon and true love at risk, Shadow and Cal will uncover a shocking web of lies that will change their paths forever.

—WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED AT THE END OF THIS BOOK??? I figured out the so-called twist like...two chapters in. Fine, ok, whatever. It’s YA, this is not rocket science and I was interested enough in Cale and Shadow to see how it all played out. Only it didn’t really play out! Because the whole end was just this like four chapter retcon of basically EVERYTHING ELSE THAT HAPPENED and I genuinely could not believe it was happening. It didn’t make sense?!? Like with the plot? Also, spoiler, good thing Shadow and the other king haven’t consummated their marriage yet since she and Cale totally fucked after her wedding? What is YA? Why is Amazon telling me this is a Teacher’s Pick? Why hasn’t my hold come through on the sequel yet so I know what happens next?

Low-Stakes Romance Was Real Boring and All The People Were Boring In It

The Ten Rules for Faking It by Sophie Sullivan

As birthdays go, this year’s for radio producer Everly Dean hit rock-bottom. Worse than the “tonsillectomy birthday.” Worse than the birthday her parents decided to split (the first time). But catching your boyfriend cheating on you with his assistant? Even clichés sting. But this is Everly’s year! She won’t let her anxiety hold her back. She’ll pitch her podcast idea to her boss. There’s just one problem. Her boss, Chris, is very cute. (Of course). Also, he's extremely distant (which means he hates her, right? Or is that the anxiety talking)? And, Stacey the DJ didn’t mute the mic during Everly’s rant about Simon the Snake (syn: Cheating Ex). That’s three problems. Suddenly, people are lining up to date her, Bachelorette-style, fans are voting (Reminder: never leave house again), and her interest in Chris might be a two-way street. It’s a lot for a woman who could gold medal in people-avoidance. She’s going to have to fake it ‘till she makes it to get through all of this. Perhaps she’ll make a list: The Ten Rules for Faking It.

— I am a broken record. Shouting. From the highest hilltop. Just because you think someone is cute when you’re technically not supposed to be dating them does not mean you get to be anything less than nice around them! It’s not cute! And part two, which often goes with part one: rom com dudes have GOT to stop lying or hiding or otherwise avoiding telling people who they really are. It’s a convoluted, passably lazy way of writing and dropping a third-act bomb on the story. Don’t do it. Stop doing it. We’ve moved past the need for hidden identities. Unless he’s, like, a spy or something. Um...this was a weird book. I know Everly had anxiety and that became a PLOT POINT, patent pending, but she was also not super relatable? Which is crazy considering my very real, rather undiagnosed anxiety. Chris was boring. The whole plot, as this title suggests, was very low stakes and no one actually seemed to remember that their jobs were ever on the line? Did Everly and Chris have a conversation before they decided they liked each other? Who can say, really.

Shipped by Angie Hockman

Between taking night classes for her MBA and her demanding day job at a cruise line, marketing manager Henley Evans barely has time for herself, let alone family, friends, or dating. But when she’s shortlisted for the promotion of her dreams, all her sacrifices finally seem worth it. The only problem? Graeme Crawford-Collins, the remote social media manager and the bane of her existence, is also up for the position. Although they’ve never met in person, their epic email battles are the stuff of office legend. Their boss tasks each of them with drafting a proposal on how to boost bookings in the Galápagos—best proposal wins the promotion. There’s just one catch: they have to go on a company cruise to the Galápagos Islands...together. But when the two meet on the ship, Henley is shocked to discover that the real Graeme is nothing like she imagined. As they explore the Islands together, she soon finds the line between loathing and liking thinner than a postcard. With her career dreams in her sights and a growing attraction to the competition, Henley begins questioning her life choices. Because what’s the point of working all the time if you never actually live?

— YOU NEED TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH SOMEONE TO DECIDE YOU LIKE THEM. AUTHORS REALLY REALLY NEED TO LEARN HOW TO BUILD ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS. IF THEY ONLY LIKE EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEY KISS WELL IT’S NOT A GOOD RELATIONSHIP. AND THIS IS COMING FROM ME. Back at it again with the annoying so-called heroine who was just...occasionally real mean to Graem for no reason at all? Also her name was Henley. Which is not a great reason to dislike her, but here we are.

Apparently I Read These Books Out Of Order. Who Knew?

Pride, Prejudice and Other Flavors by Sonali Dev

It is a truth universally acknowledged that only in an overachieving Indian American family can a genius daughter be considered a black sheep.

Dr. Trisha Raje is San Francisco’s most acclaimed neurosurgeon. But that’s not enough for the Rajes, her influential immigrant family who’s achieved power by making its own non-negotiable rules:

· Never trust an outsider

· Never do anything to jeopardize your brother’s political aspirations

· And never, ever, defy your family

Trisha is guilty of breaking all three rules. But now she has a chance to redeem herself. So long as she doesn’t repeat old mistakes.

Up-and-coming chef DJ Caine has known people like Trisha before, people who judge him by his rough beginnings and place pedigree above character. He needs the lucrative job the Rajes offer, but he values his pride too much to indulge Trisha’s arrogance. And then he discovers that she’s the only surgeon who can save his sister’s life.

As the two clash, their assumptions crumble like the spun sugar on one of DJ’s stunning desserts. But before a future can be savored there’s a past to be reckoned with...

A family trying to build home in a new land.

A man who has never felt at home anywhere.

And a choice to be made between the two.

— Surprise, apparently this was the first book in the series. I did not know. It didn’t affect my enjoyment of the Persuasion version in this same ‘verse, which is also strange because I liked the Persuasion one way better. There was a lot of medical in this. And not super uplifting medical, either. This was like...oh the Jane character (I guess???) has cancer and either she’s going to go blind after having a surgery (also she was an artist, so you see how this was a problem) or she’s just going to decide to die. Wait, what? That came out of left field, really. Also DJ and Trisha were not nice to each other. Like, I know this is Pride and Prejudice so there has to be some of that at the start, but it wasn’t like Trisha ever really went through the Darcy-required time at Pemberly. She just decided she liked DJ and told him and it was as awkward as Jane Austen intended it, but then we got more medical and everything was cool. It felt very rushed and shoehorned into a modern setting and the Persuasion one was better. You can’t have Darcy’s growth without the Pemberly stuff. You just can’t.

In Which I Didn’t Like a Nickname??? Is the World Ending??

Crazy Stupid Bromance by Lyssa Kay Adams

Alexis Carlisle and her cat café, ToeBeans, have shot to fame after she came forward as a victim of a celebrity chef’s sexual harassment. When a new customer approaches to confide in her, the last thing Alexis expects is for the woman to claim they’re sisters. Unsure what to do, Alexis turns to the only man she trusts—her best friend, Noah Logan. Computer genius Noah left his rebellious teenage hacker past behind to become a computer security expert. Now he only uses his old skills for the right cause. But Noah’s got a secret: He’s madly in love with Alexis. When she asks for his help, he wonders if the timing will ever be right to confess his crush. Noah’s pals in The Bromance Book Club are more than willing to share their beloved “manuals” to help him go from bud to boyfriend. But he must decide if telling the truth is worth risking the best friendship he’s ever had.

— If Noah was going to call her Lexa, then her name should have been Alexa and not Alexis. That’s it and that’s all. Also, the story was n u t s. Estranged dads and kidney failure and they got together so fast in this book. Which usually is cool by me, but I really could not get over the nickname and the estranged family was mean to Alexis. Lexa. HER NAME SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALEXA, IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Also Noah was a former hacker? The estranged family accused him corporate espionage or something? A lot happened in this book, guys. Her name should have been Alexa.

Dumb Brother Was Dumb™ Everyone Else Was Real Cute

The Off Limits Rule by Sarah Adams

I have found rock bottom. It's here, moving in with my older brother because I'm too broke to afford to live on my own. It's okay though, because we've always been close and I think I'm going to have fun living with him again.   That is until I meet Cooper...   Turns out, my brother has very strong opinions on the idea of me dating his best friend and is dead set against it. According to him, Cooper is everything I should stay away from: flirtatious, adventurous, non-committal, and freaking hot. (I added that last part because I feel like you need the whole picture.) My brother is right--I should stay away from Cooper James and his pretty blue eyes. He's the opposite of what I need right now.   Nah--who am I kidding? I'm going for it.

— This was cute, mostly mindless fluff. Hit some trope high points, including, obviously, best friends sister. Only the brother in question was a Neanderthal and I really thought people were going to make out more while said brother was on his business trip. I got it for free off Amazon. Which I think should explain a lot. Like, story-wise. Sorry, free Amazon books. Don’t be insulted.

Prose, Prose, Prose, Please Someone Have a Conversation

Trick by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Spring, Poet is renowned. He's young and pretty, a lover of men and women. He performs for the court, kisses like a scoundrel, and mocks with a silver tongue. Yet allow him this: It's only the most cunning and manipulative soul who can play the fool. For beyond the castle walls, Poet guards a secret. One the Crown would shackle him for. One that he'll risk everything to protect. Alas, it will take more than clever words to deceive Princess Briar. Convinced that he's juggling lies as well as verse, this righteous nuisance of a girl is determined to expose him. But not all falsehoods are fiendish. Poet's secret is delicate, binding the jester and princess in an unlikely alliance—and kindling a breathless attraction, as alluring as it is forbidden.

— The purplest of prose. Mauve prose. Royal purple prose. Lavender prose. There was so much writing here. So much. Too much, some might say. I say. Actually. If we want to get specific. And that was a shame, really, because when Briar and Poet actually had a conversation, they were interesting to read about. Also, the world building here? Yeeeesh. The so-called, wait for it, FOOL TRADE played a prominent role and that was...super cringe. Super Cringe. That being said, I asked Justin what I should read next and he thought it was funny that a book was just called...

Dare by Natalia Jaster

In the Kingdom of Summer, they say she's wild. Locked in a cage by the sea, Flare dreams of escape. She dreams of a lost world, known only in legends. The island is calling to her. And she won't let anyone keep her from it. Especially not him. They say he's cruel. Jeryn has crossed the ocean for the Trade, to bargain for those fierce, imprisoned creatures that make his skin crawl. By law, they're subjects meant for experimentation. And easy to despise. One girl in particular. But on the cusp of transport, the tide rages. That hidden island awaits. Stranded, the prince and prisoner must fight to survive. In a mysterious rainforest, they must band together...if they don't slay one another first. Or become something more to each other. Something just as dangerous.

— This was Justin’s fault. He could not believe this book was just called Dare. It should have been called “We’re going to weirdly force what is basically slavery into this story and then a prince is going to fall in love with an escaped slave and we’re also going to call that ROMANCE.” y i k e s. Remember that one story that took place over three days? This was the complete opposite. Years! They were shipwrecked for years! They got saved, spoilers, the DAY they started having sex. What are the odds, right?? And then MORE YEARS passed. Multiple years! Five years! They couldn’t actually be together because of that aforementioned slave trade. What the shit, man? Natalia, ya gotta be kidding me with this. The internet claimed Trick was good and a solid follow to reading ACOTAR and that there was this whole verse and it was also good. The internet was wrong.

Nothing Happened, Everything Happened, I...Hated It

Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Kristin Cashore’s bestselling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming. Katsa’s is killing. As the king’s niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his thug. Along the way, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace… and how to put it to good use. A thrilling, action-packed fantasy adventure (and steamy romance!) that will resonate deeply with adolescents trying to find their way in the world.

— I can’t believe this was a book. Katsa was so annoying! Like, listen, I know her life was sad. And she was a pawn being used against her will. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. The tone of the whole book was so strangely formal and Poe was strangely in love with Katsa? Who obviously didn’t want to get married because she was WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR. Or kill people, as the case may be. Only she wanted to make out with Poe? Only ONLY they didn’t even really get together at the end? I could not believe the end of this book. I nearly threw my Kindle across the room. Once again, no apologies for spoilers because do not read this book, but HE WAS BLIND? Katsa had to leave him behind to save his cousin and he just ENDED UP BEING BLIND? AND THEY NEVER GOT TOGETHER REALLY?? What the fuck? Seriously. Steamy romance, my ass. Nothing happened. The villain got defeated in point two seconds. There are other books in this universe? No, thanks.

#book recommendations #book rec #fantasy recommendations #book recs #laura reads books #this was longer than i realized it was going to be #documentation of a very weird book month #but we're almost back on track now because i am LOVING a darker shade of magic #welllp these are books

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